.heinstein 


KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN 


OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 


KNIGHT  CONRAD 


OF  RHEINSTEIN 


A  ROMANCE  OF  THE  DAYS  OF  CHIVALRY 


BY  JULIUS  LUDOVICI 


CONRAD   OF    RHEINSTEIN 


ILLUSTRATED  BY  THE  AUTHOR 


CHICAGO  AND  NEW  YORK: 
RAND,  McNALLY  &  COMPANY,  PUBLISHERS. 

MDCCCXCIX. 


Copyright,  1899,  by  Rand,  McNally  &  Co. 


DEDICATBD 

TO   MY  ESTEEMED   FRIEND, 
COL.  WM.  M.  PEGRAM,  OF  BALTIMORE,  MD., 

WITH   HEARTFELT  GRATITUDE   FOR 
HIS  KINDLY  ENCOURAGEMENT  AND   ASSISTANCE   IN 
THE  WRITING  OF  THIS  STORY. 
•       THE    AUTHOR. 


2131137 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


Falkenstein  Castle Frontispiece 

Conrad  of  Rheinstein,       Title  page 

His  armor  and  the  polished  cross  on  his  breast 

glistened  in  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun,       Facing  page  10 

With  a  vigorous  plunge,  he  dragged  his  master 

out  of  the  stream "         "22 

"  I  have  come  to  save  thee,  Sir  Knight,"  said 

she, "         "28 

They  paused  involuntarily,  however,  as  the 

witch ,  with  flashing  eyes,  confronted  them ,         "         "44 

But  he  heeded  them  not ;  his  eyes  were  only 

for  Rosalie,    . "         "54 

"  It  was  he,  Sir  Knight,  who  in  sheer  wanton- 
ness destroyed  yonder  castle,"     ....         "         "60 

"I  swear,"  replied  our  hero,  involuntarily,      .         "         "72 
Bending  slightly  forward  in  a  listening  attitude,         "         "78 

Reining  in  his  charger  a  few  strides  beyond, 

he  saw  the  Prince  sway  in  his  saddle,  .     .         "         "92 

She  withdrew  it  more  quickly  than  she  had 

done  at  the  tournament "         "  108 

Conrad  looked  into  his  companion's  face,    .     .         "         "  128 

But  at  the  moment  another  sword  parried  the 

blow, ,     .    .    .    .     i;>i.«  ..      "          "  148 

He  accompanied  Rosalie   and   her  monastic 

cortege "         "162 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Conrad  and  the  Duke  suddenly  descried  a 
figure,  flag  in  hand,  on  the  slowly  descend- 
ing drawbridge Facing  page  178 

Taking  it  firmly  between  his  teeth,  he  made 

his  laborious  way  out  again, "         "     188 

The  Prince's  horse  reared  violently  as  a  knife 

thrust  penetrated  its  vitals "         "     194 

The  Duke,  Volga,  and  Conrad  bade  him  god- 
speed,    "  "  220 

On  they  sped  once  more  at  a  terrific  gait,   .     .       "         "     232 
Ursula  sank  down  at  Conrad's  feet "         "252 

The  reaction  being  too  great  for  Volga,  she 

burst  into  an  uncontrollable  flood  of  tears,       "         "     256 

"Wilt  thou  take  me  to  Falkenstein,  Conrad, 

and  may  I  always  remain  near  thee?"  .     .       "         "     276 

As  he  wound  around  the  proud  castle  of  Falk- 
enstein,    "  "  292 

As  it  was  now  Volga's  turn,  she  stepped  back 

some  distance  and  sent  off  her  missile,      .       "         "     296 


KNIGHT  CONRAD 

OF  RHEINSTEIN, 

A  Romance  of  the  Days  of  Chivalry. 


CHAPTER  I. 

CONRAD. 

"A  true  knight; 

Not  yet  mature  yet  matchless." 

— Shaks.    Troilus  and  Cressida. 

Before  the  walls  of  Jerusalem,  a  German  warrior 
of  the  Holy  Cross  lay  in  his  tent,  mortally  wounded. 

It  was  in  the  time  of  the  third  Crusade,  near  the 
close  of  the  twelfth  century,  and  under  the  leadership 
of  the  chivalrous  Emperor  Frederick  I,  surnamed  Bar- 
barossa,  that  the  Teutonic  Barons  and  nobles  enlisted 
for  the  first  time,  and  with  great  enthusiasm,  in  the 
sacred  cause. 

A  sad  disaster  which  befell  them  in  crossing  a  small 
river  in  Asia  Minor,  in  which  their  brave  leader  lost  his 


8  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

life,  prevented  all  save  a  small  remnant  from  reach- 
ing the  Holy  Land.  Among  the  devoted  few,  who  ar- 
rived in  the  most  deplorable  condition,  carrying  with 
them  their  dead  Emperor  to  be  buried  in  Jerusalem, 
was  our  wounded  knight,  the  noble  Baron  von  Rhein- 
stein,  with  his  two  sons.  They  but  slowly  recovered 
from  their  march.  After  many  more  vicissitudes  they 
fought  under  the  King  of  France  before  St.  Jean 
d'Acre,  and  eventually  joined  their  fortunes  with 
those  of  Richard  I  of  England,  then  leading  his  brave 
knights  against  Saladin,  the  great  and  hitherto  vic- 
torious Saracen  chief. 

After  many  alternate  victories  and  defeats,  Rich- 
ard Coeur  de  Lion,  on  that  very  day,  had  given  battle 
to  the  Infidels,  gained  the  great  final  victory  of  Jaffa, 
retaken  that  fortress  and  reopened  the  road  to  Jerusa- 
lem— a  victory  dearly  purchased,  however,  by  the 
sacrifice  of  many  valiant  knights  and  retainers. 

The  older  of  the  dying  warrior's  sons  had  fallen  that 
day  at  his  side.  His  fine  young  form  lay  stiff  and 
cold  in  a  corner  of  the  tent.  The  younger,  though 
equally  brave,  had  escaped  unhurt.  He  was  kneeling 
at  the  bedside  of  his  father.  Perfect  quiet  had  suc- 
ceeded the  fearful  din  of  battle,  nothing  was  audi- 
ble save  the  flappings  of  bats'  wings  against  the  tent, 
or  the  distant  cry  of  the  vulture  claiming  its  prey  on 
the  field  of  carnage.  "My  boy,"  said  the  dying  knight, 


His  armor  and  the  polished  cross  on  his  breast  glistened  in  the  rays  of 
the  setting  sun. 


CONRAD.  9 

as  he  fixed  his  dim  eyes  on  the  handsome,  stalwart 
young  soldier,  "thou  art  the  last  of  thy  race.  If  peace 
follow  our  dearly  bought  victory  of  today,  return  to 
thy  mother  and  take  her  my  last  farewell.  If,  how- 
ever, war  continue,  enlist  once  more  under  our  Holy 
Banner  to  avenge  the  death  of  thy  father  and  thy 
brother.  I  leave  to  thee  yonder  trusty  sword.  With  it 
I  have  slain  many  an  infidel  dog.  I  know  full  well 
thou  wilt  not  disgrace  it.  Soon  thou  wilt  be  lord  of  my 
castle  and  thy  mother's  sole  defender.  My  Arabian 
steed  Saladin,  captured  from  our  foe,  that  has  carried 
me  through  many  a  bloody  conflict — take  care  of  him 
also.  Be  brave  and  steadfast.  Relieve  the  distressed 
and  comfort  thy  mother." 

While  uttering  these  words  he  had  raised  himself 
with  much  difficulty  upon  his  couch ;  but  now  he  sank 
back  exhausted.  After  a  considerable  pause  he  re- 
sumed in  a  voice  whose  faintness  betokened  his  fail- 
ing strength :  "Open  wide  the  tent,  Conrad ;  I  would 
fain  look  once  more  upon  the  stars  so  full  of  mystery. 
Look — what  do  they  tell  thee?  Yonder,  far  beyond, 
we  shall  meet  again." 

His  voice  ceased ;  his  eyes  remained  fixed  upon  the 
stars ;  his  lips  quivered ;  his  trembling  hands  became 
stiff  and  cold ;  and  the  lion  heart  of  the  hero  ceased  to 
beat. 


10  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

After  pressing  his  lips  upon  his  father's  brow,  Con- 
rad arose. 

With  sudden  impulse  he  seized  the  huge  sword  just 
bequeathed  to  him.  Holding  it  on  high  he  repeated 
the  solemn  oath,  taken  when  knighted  three  years  be- 
fore, to  wield  it  ever  in  the  cause  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion, and  in  defense  of  honor  and  virtue. 

On  the  following  day,  before  the  blood-red  sun  had 
hidden  itself  behind  the  walls  of  Jerusalem,  Conrad 
stood  by  the  grave  while  the  earth  was  thrown  over 
the  remains  of  his  father  and  brother.  He  then  turned 
away  with  a  heavy  heart. 

A  month  of  inaction  ensued.  '  When  it  ended,  King 
Richard  was  enabled  to  obtain  from  Saladin  a  truce  of 
three  years  and  eight  months,  with  an  assurance  to  pil- 
grims of  free  access  to  the  Holy  Sepulcher.  Hard 
bought  privileges,  indeed,  to  gain  which  many  a  noble 
knight  and  brave  soldier  had  left  home  and  kindred 
in  distant  lands,  never  to  return ;  their  corpses  lay 
buried  before  the  walls  of  the  Holy  City,  side  by  side 
with  those  of  the  unbelieving  enemy. 

Adding  his  father's  and  his  brother's  possessions 
to  his  own,  Conrad  started,  with  a  goodly  number  of 
well-equipped  retainers,  on  his  homeward  journey. 
At  this  time  the  Crusaders  were  held  in  high  honor 
in  every  court  and  hamlet  in  Europe ;  so  Conrad  was 


CONRAD.  11 

feasted,  and  treated  with  marked  distinction  through- 
out his  entire  journey  by  sea  and  land. 

At  the  end  of  two  months  he  found  himself  within 
a  day's  ride  of  his  ancestral  castle  on  the  Rhine.  As 
the  country  around  began  to  look  familiar  his  spirits 
rose,  and  he  urged  his  horse  forward;  but  his  heart 
sank  when  he  thought  of  the  sad  tidings  he  had  to 
bring  to  his  mother,  now  so  near.  Slackening  the 
pace  of  his  beautiful  black  Arab  barb,  the  young  Cru- 
sader presented  a  striking  picture.  A  pensive  look 
sat  on  his  handsome  countenance ;  his  graceful  figure 
was  the  ideal  of  physical  perfection ;  his  fair  locks 
shimmered  in  the  light  as  they  were  stirred  by  the 
evening  breeze;  his  armor  and  the  polished  cross  on 
his  breast  glistened  in  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun. 

It  was  quite  dark  when  the  weary  traveler  reached 
a  well-remembered  inn.  It  being  too  late  to  cross  the 
river  that  night,  he  decided  to  seek  food  and  rest  un- 
der its  hospitable  roof,  and  to  proceed  on  his  journey 
early  next  morning. 

The  inn-keeper,  not  recognizing  Conrad,  who 
had  greatly  changed  during  his  long  absence  and 
hard  service,  felt  completely  overpowered  by  the  ar- 
rival of  an  unknown  Knight  of  the  Holy  Cross  and 
his  retainers.  All  that  the  well-filled  larder  contained 
scarcely  sufficed  to  satisfy  the  hungry  guests.  In 
fact,  three  young  pigs,  the  entire  stock  of  the  pen, 


12  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

were  roasted  whole  before  their  appetites  were  ap- 
peased. After  enjoying  for  some  time  the  embarrass- 
ment of  the  worthy  landlord,  Conrad  determined  to 
make  himself  known.  When  "mine  host"  heard  the 
young  Crusader's  name  he  seemed  both  surprised  and 
distressed ;  and  at  Conrad's  anxious  inquiries  concern- 
ing his  mother  the  good  man  raised  his  hands,  turned 
his  eyes  upward  and  assayed  in  vain  to  make  reply. 
Conrad,  much  alarmed,  urged  him  to  explain.  Little 
by  little,  and  with  much  hesitation  on  the  part  of  the 
host,  the  astounded  listener  was  told  of  the  sacking 
and  burning  of  the  castle  of  Rheinstein  by  robber 
knights  during  his  absence,  and  of  the  death  of  the 
Baroness,  she  having  been  found  in  her  chamber, 
which  had  escaped  the  flames.  The  manner  of  her 
death  no  one  knew.  Her  remains  had  been  consigned 
to  earth  in  the  little  churchyard  near  the  village.  Con- 
rad sat  speechless  and  motionless  for  some  moments. 
Suddenly,  in  an  agony  of  grief,  he  sprang  to  his  feet, 
and  lifting  his  right  hand  to  heaven,  vowed  to  avenge 
his  mother's  death,  and  to  punish  the  robbers  who 
had  destroyed  his  ancestral  castle. 

"Who,"  asked  he,  "dared  to  commit  this  dastardly 
outrage  ?" 

"Hans  von  Waldhorst,  your  father's  old  foe,"  was 
the  reply.  "  Tis  said  that  he  has  become  subject  of 


CONRAt).  13 

late  to  uncontrollable  fits  of  savage  temper.  It  was 
during  one  of  these  that  he  did  this  last  damnable 
deed." 

Conrad  paced  the  room  for  a  while  in  great  agita- 
tion, then  threw  himself  into  a  chair  in  order  to  col- 
lect his  thoughts.  Without  means  to  rebuild  his  castle, 
he  must  needs  be  a  homeless  wanderer.  He  deter- 
mined, at  last,  to  dismiss  his  retainers  and  set  out  alone 
to  retrieve  his  fortunes.  Still  brooding  over  the  sad 
story  which  he  had  just  heard,  he  retired  to  his  room 
and  threw  himself  upon  the  couch.  As  sleep  gradually 
overcame  him,  he  dreamed  that  he  saw  his  mother  alive 
welcoming  him  back  to  his  home.  Alas!  that  it 
should  have  been  a  dream ! 

On  the  following  morning  he  crossed  the  Rhine 
by  means  of  one  of  those  old-fashioned  ferries,  which 
are  in  use  to  this  day  in  some  parts  of  Europe,  a  boat 
tied  to  an  anchor  and  moved  hither  and  thither  by  the 
current.  He  first  visited  the  grave  of  his  mother,  then 
spent  several  hours  of  sad  interest  on  the  spot  where 
once  had  towered  the  castle  of  his  ancestors.  In  a 
desperate  mood  he  guided  his  horse  among  the  crum- 
bling ruins.  Saladin  seemed  to  hang  his  head  in  sym- 
pathy, while  his  young  master  inwardly  renewed  his 
vows  of  vengeance  against  Hans  von  Waldhorst.  On 
his  return  to  the  inn,  he  dismissed  his  servants  and 


i4         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEltf. 

followers,  distributing  among  them  most  of  the  tro* 
phies  he  had  brought  from  the  Holy  Land. 

His  evening  meal  being  finished,  the  landlord  made 
bold  to  question  him  concerning  his  intentions.  Con- 
rad answered  that  he  was  now  only  a  poor  Knight 
Errant,  with  a  single  aim — that  of  punishing  the  mur- 
derer of  his  mother. 

The  landlord  thereupon  informed  the  young  lord 
that  a  grand  tournament  was  to  be  held  within  a  week's 
time,  in  celebration  of  the  twentieth  anniversary  of  the 
birth  of  the  Princess  Ursula,  only  daughter  of  the 
Duke  of  Falkenstein.  "The  castle  and  the  principal- 
ity of  Falkenstein,"  said  he,  "are  already  full  of  visit- 
ors. The  Princess,  whom  I  believe  your  worship's 
brother  knew  in  her  childhood,  has  grown  up  exceed- 
ingly beautiful.  Many  a  knight  has  fought  in  her 
honor,  hoping  to  win  her  favor,  but  as  yet  she  has  re- 
fused to  bestow  her  hand  on  any."  Conrad  had  been 
brought  up  at  his  father's  side,  and  knighted  by  his 
ill-fated  Emperor  on  the  way  to  the  Holy  Land;  but 
he  remembered  well  having  heard  his  brother,  edu- 
cated and  knighted  at  Falkenstein,  speak  of  this  high- 
born and  spirited  girl. 

As  he  again  heard  of  her  now  renowned  beauty,  he 
decided  to  take  part  in  the  tournament  in  her  honor, 
without  giving  more  than  a  passing  thought  to  the 


CONRAD.  ii 

possibility  of  finding  favor  in  her  eyes,  being,  then, 
only  determined  to  make  use  of  every  opportunity  to 
gain  fame  and  fortune.  Despite  his  sorrowful  mood 
he  determined  to  start  on  his  journey  the  following 
morning. 

"The  sooner  I  mend  my  fortunes,"  he  mused,  "the 
sooner  shall  I  be  able  to  make  war  on  Count  Hans." 


i6          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN, 


CHAPTER  II. 

FIGHTING  THE  ELEMENTS. 

"The  brook, 

That  with  its  silvery  gleam  comes  leaping  down 
From  the  hillside,  has,  too,  a  tale  to  tell." 

— Mrs.  Elliot. 

Shortly  after  sunrise  on  a  morning  in  early  Spring, 
that  most  beautiful  of  all  the  seasons  in  Germany, 
Conrad  started  on  his  journey  to  Falkenstein.  The 
inn-keeper  accompanied  him  across  the  Rhine  as  far 
as  a  mountain  path,  familiar  to  him  from  early  child- 
hood. 

"As  you  are  likely  to  remember,  Sir  Knight,"  said 
the  man,  "this  path  leads  you,  within  two  hours,  to  the 
bank  of  a  rivulet,  and  by  following  its  course  upward 
a  league  or  more,  you  will,  near  its  source,  reach  a 
mill.  The  miller  will  direct  you  to  a  peasant  living 
within  two  days'  travel  of  the  principality  of  Falken- 
stein. The  castle  of  the  powerful  and  treacherous 
Count  von  Waldhorst  you  will  pass  on  your  second 
day's  journey ;  and  its  towers  will  be  visible  in  the  dis- 
tance, through  the  trees  on  the  opposite  shore  of  the 


FIGHTING  THE  ELEMENTS.  17 

river.  The  Count  will  not  be  likely  to  molest  you, 
Sir  Knight,  nor  indeed  any  other  wayfarer  just  now, 
as  it  is  hardly  safe  to  cross  the  turbulent  streams  at 
this  season." 

"Would  that  I  could  meet  him  single-handed,"  re- 
plied the  young  Knight,  "for  I  fear  I  shall  have  to  bide 
my  time  ere  I  can  encounter  him  in  any  other  way. 
Take,  to  award  thee,  my  friend,  for  thy  care  of  me, 
and  to  keep  away  the  evil  spirits  from  thee,  this  little 
inlaid  cross  which  I  brought  from  the  Holy  Land,  and 
which  has  been  blessed  by  our  Holy  Father,  the  Pope." 
The  inn-keeper  departed;  and  ever  after  prized  this 
gift  beyond  anything  he  possessed. 

It  was  a  lovely  morning.  The  blossoms  were  out, 
diffusing  their  fragrance  on  the  refreshing  breeze. 
Our  traveler's  spirits  rose  in  spite  of  himself.  Saladin 
neighed.  As  Conrad  patted  his  neck  while  unburden- 
ing his  heart  to  him,  the  noble  steed  pricked  up  his 
ears  and  galloped  on,  seemingly  proud  of  the  load  he 
bore.  At  mid-day  they  arrived  at  the  mill.  The  mil- 
ler's daughter  happened  to  be  standing  at  a  window. 
Seeing  the  handsome  cavalier  approaching,  she  ran 
down  and  told  her  father  that  a  beautiful  knight  of 
the  Holy  Cross  was  coming  up  the  road.  Glancing  at 
herself  in  a  mirror,  she  hastened  to  meet  him.  Con- 
rad saluted  the  pretty  maiden  right  gallantly.  Ere 
long  he  was  seated  with  father  and  daughter  before  a 


18  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

simple  meal,  which,  after  his  long  morning  ride, 
seemed  a  regal  repast.  His  faithful  Saladin  enjoyed 
his  measure  of  oats  under  a  shady  oak.  At  the  end  of 
a  good  hour's  rest,  he  continued  on  his  way.  The  mil- 
ler's lass,  making  the  excuse  of  pointing  out  the  road, 
accompanied  him  for  a  short  distance  before  bidding 
him  a  reluctant  farewell.  To  the  end  of  her  days  her 
mind  held  the  image  of  the  gallant  young  warrior. 

About  dusk  Conrad  reached  the  rustic  dwelling  de- 
scribed to  him,  situated  near  the  banks  of  a  turbulent 
river.  The  owner  of  this  habitation  did  everything  in 
his  power  to  make  the  traveler  comfortable;  but  he 
seemed,  all  the  while,  to  be  in  great  distress.  He  in- 
formed his  noble  guest  that  Count  Hans  von  Wald- 
horst  had  made  a  raid  upon  him,  a  week  before,  carry- 
ing away  one-half  of  his  cattle  and  provision.  "He 
will  come  again,"  continued  the  peasant,  "and  that  all 
too  soon.  I  thought  that  beyond  bargaining  with  him 
from  time  to  time  for  supplies,  though  at  a  disadvan- 
tage, I  should  be  safe,  for  he  dwells  across  the  river; 
but  I  see  now  that  in  order  to  save  the  little  that  re- 
mains I  shall  be  obliged  to  flee  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try. Oh,  if  the  Baron  von  Rheinstein  had  been  here, 
these  things  would  never  have  happened !" 

Conrad  interrupted  the  poor  farmer  to  tell  him  that 
he  was  the  Baron's  youngest  son.  "My  father  and  my 
brother  both  lie  buried  in  the  Holy  Land,"  added  he ; 


FIGHTING  THE  ELEMENTS.  19 

"my  home  has  been  destroyed  in  my  absence  by  this 
same  miscreant,  and  I  have  sworn  vengeance  against 
him.  I  am  but  a  penniless  and  wandering  knight,  but 
I  trust  speedily  to  retrieve  my  fortunes,  and  to  pun- 
ish this  robber  as  he  deserves." 

"May  God  and  the  Holy  Virgin  be  with  you!"  an- 
swered the  simple  peasant. 

"Amen!"  responded  Conrad. 

Saladin,  to  his  utter  disgust,  spent  that  night  in  the 
same  stall  with  a  small  donkey;  but  as  the  latter  was 
not  inclined  to  be  sociable,  the  steed  only  silently  pro- 
tested. The  next  day  the  peasant  took  some  pains  to 
describe  the  road  to  be  pursued  by  Conrad.  "You  will 
strike  a  mountain  path  in  the  afternoon,  from  which, 
far  in  the  distance  across  the  river,  you  will  be  able  to 
descry  the  towers  of  Count  Hans'  castle.  This  path, 
which  will  eventually  lead  you  to  the  broad  road,  be- 
comes very  intricate  as  it  enters  the  wild  woods,  so 
it  will  require  some  care  on  your  part  not  to  lose  it." 

Conrad  gave  the  last  trinket  he  possessed  to  his 
kind  entertainer,  and  started  on  his  second  day's 
journey.  At  noon  he  rested  near  a  sparkling  brook, 
where  he  partook  of  refreshments  brought  with 
him.  Resuming  his  way,  he  soon  struck  the  moun- 
tain path.  His  mind  was  so  preoccupied  with  the 
part  which  he  expected  to  take  in  the  Falkenstein 
tournaments  and  with  other,  as  yet  indistinct,  plans 


20  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

for  the  future,  that,  for  a  time,  he  actually  dismissed 
Hans  von  Waldhorst  from  his  thoughts.  He  carefully 
followed  the  windings  of  the  path  before  him,  how- 
ever. After  an  hour  or  two  this  became  a  more  be- 
wildering task  than  he  had  been  led  to  anticipate,  and 
eventually  it  wound  through  a  wildly  wooded  region. 
The  air  had  become  sultry.  He  observed  dark 
clouds  lowering  above  him.  Gradually  the  heat  be- 
came so  oppressive  that  he  divested  himself  of  his  ar- 
mor and  laid  it  across  the  horn  of  his  saddle.  Suddenly 
there  came  a  great  gust  of  wind,  accompanied  by  thun- 
der and  lightning.  A  moment  later,  a  furious  storm 
was  upon  him.  It  grew  so  dark  he  could  scarcely  dis- 
tinguish the  path  in  its  windings  among  the  trees  and 
and  undergrowth.  He  was  awestruck  by  the  wild 
grandeur  of  his  surroundings ;  but  as  the  pelting  rain 
was  coming  down  in  torrents,  he  felt  it  behooved  him 
to  find  shelter.  He  decided  to  take  refuge  under  the 
protecting  branches  of  a  huge  oak ;  but  just  as  he 
reached  it,  the  lightning  struck  the  giant  of  the  forest, 
shivering  it,  and  a  fearful  crash  of  thunder  followed  al- 
most immediately.  Both  horse  and  rider  felt  the 
shock,  the  former  making  a  wild  leap  into  an  adjacent 
thicket.  Ere  Conrad  could  control  the  plunging  ani- 
mal, his  armor  had  been  torn  from  the  saddle,  and  they 
had  become  deeply  entangled  amongst  the  branches 
and  undergrowth. 


FIGHTING  THE  ELEMENTS.  21 

For  a  moment  the  Knight  had  been  stunned ;  but  on 
recovering  himself  he  quickly  looked  about  him. 
Everywhere  high  trees  and  the  wildest  maze  under- 
neath confronted  him.  Bruised  and  scratched,  he  dis- 
mounted, endeavoring  to  retrace  his  steps,  but  becom- 
ing more  and  more  bewildered.  The  storm,  continu- 
ing in  all  its  fury,  drenched  him  to  the  skin.  After  a 
while  he  succeeded  in  partly  extricating  himself  and 
reaching  a  more  sparsely  wooded  region.  Here  the 
ground  being  slippery  and  full  of  rocky  holes,  prog- 
ress was  necessarily  slow.  For  nearly  two  weary  hours 
did  he  vainly  endeavor  to  find  an  outlet.  At  last,  wet, 
hungry,  and  completely  exhausted,  he  came  to  a  dead 
halt.  By  this  time  night  had  set  its  seal  in  utter  dark- 
ness. The  wind  and  rain  continued,  though  the  light- 
ning seemed  more  distant.  By  its  aid  Conrad  sud- 
denly caught  a  gleam  of  something  bright  through 
the  trees,  at  the  same  moment  he  heard  above  the 
sounding  of  the  wind  the  noise  as  of  rushing  water. 
Struggling  on  still  farther,  he  reached  the  bank  of  a 
roaring  torrent,  which  only  added  to  his  discomfiture 
and  desolation. 

For  a  few  moments  he  stood  irresolute.  Below, 
through  the  distance,  on  the  opposite  shore,  he  saw  a 
light.  This  seemed  a  beacon  of  hope.  Hungry  and 
shivering  with  cold,  and  Saladin  trembling  at  his  side, 
he  felt  there  was  but  one  course  to  pursue — to  cross 
the  raging  torrent.  Straining  his  eyes,  a  second  time 
he  saw  the  light.  Though  a  long  distance  off,  it  was 


22  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

the  only  sign  of  human  habitation.  He  no  longer 
hesitated;  but,  buckling  his  great  sword  behind  his 
back,  mounted  Saladin  and  plunged  into  the  foaming 
current.  Before  the  gallant  steed  had  taken  many 
steps  he  lost  his  footing.  Both  horse  and  rider  were 
carried  irresistibly  down  the  stream.  Conrad  endeav- 
ored to  turn  his  horse's  head  toward  the  opposite 
shore,  made  visible  now  and  then  by  the  lightning. 
It  seemed  impossible.  In  persistently  attempting  this, 
he  completely  lost  his  hold  on  Saladin.  Horse  and 
rider  were  hopelessly  separated.  The  current  became 
stronger,  diverging  from  the  main  stream  into  a  nar- 
row side  channel,  down  which  Conrad  was  carried  with 
frightful  velocity.  An  opportune  flash  revealed  to  him 
a  black  hole,  about  a  hundred  yards  below  him,  by 
which  the  rushing  waters  were  carried  underground 
with  a  hissing  noise  that  appalled  him. 

Commending  his  soul  to  God,  the  young  Knight 
made  one  more  desperate  attempt  to  reach  the  shore. 
At  that  moment  a  dark  object  appeared  in  the  water 
before  him.  It  proved  to  be  Saladin.  Having  se- 
cured a  foothold  on  the  rocky  bottom  he  was  plunging 
madly  against  the  current. 

With  a  final  and  well-nigh  hopeless  effort,  Conrad 
succeeded  in  laying  hold  of  the  animal's  tail,  to  which 
he  clung  with  desperation.  The  noble  beast  seemed 
to  comprehend  the  situation.  With  a  vigorous  plunge, 
he  dragged  his  master  out  of  the  stream  onto  a  slip- 
pery bank.  Conrad  had  nearly  lost  consciousness  dur- 
ing the  last  terrific  struggle,  but  soon  recovered. 


With  a  vigorous  plunge,  he  dragged  his  master  out  of  the  stream. 


FIGHTING  THE  ELEMENTS.  23 

Standing  beside  Saladin,  he  placed  his  arm  around  his 
preserver's  neck,  speaking  endearing  words  to  him, 
the  noble  steed  shaking  his  dripping  mane  and  nod- 
ding his  head  in  response.  After  a  short  rest,  horse 
and  rider  climbed  up  the  bank,  reaching  a  road  with 
a  downward  grade,  at  the  end  of  which  lights  were 
visible. 

Leading  his  horse,  he  presently  reached  a  draw- 
bridge which  had  been  lowered  over  a  broad  moat,  as 
if  in  readiness  for  some  arrival.  Of  the  sentinel  sta- 
tioned there,  he  asked  refuge  from  the  storm.  The 
man  bade  him  follow;  and  crossing  the  bridge  en- 
tered a  courtyard,  above  which  a  huge  pile  of  irregu- 
lar bricks  and  towers  loomed  in  the  darkness.  The 
sentinel  stopped  before  a  large  iron  door,  giving  three 
loud  knocks.  He  was  answered  in  a  few  moments  by 
the  appearance  of  a  tall,  handsome,  but  sinister  look- 
ing man,  of  apparently  two  score  and  five  years,  partly 
clad  in  armor.  After  a  searching  look  at  Conrad  this 
man  bade  him  welcome,  and  called  upon  his  servants 
to  stable  the  young  knight's  horse.  Saladin  kicked 
and  plunged,  and  even  tried  to  bite  the  attendant.  It 
required  Conrad's  own  hand  to  lead  him  to  the  stall. 
There  he  rubbed  his  nose  against  his  master,  and 
neighed  uneasily  when  left  alone. 

Conrad  thought  this  exceedingly  strange.  On  re- 
calling the  occurrence  some  time  afterwards,  he  was 
convinced  that  the  sagacious  beast  had  had  an  in- 
stinctive foreboding  of  the  evil  that  was  to  come. 


24  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 


CHAPTER  III. 

IN  PRISON. 
'A  prison!   heavens,  I  loathe  the  hated  name. 


Thou'rt  every  mischief  crammed  into  one  curse." 

— Tom  Brown. 

Conrad  found  himself  seated  at  a  well-provisioned 
table  in  a  large,  low-ceilinged  banquet  hall.  By  the 
warmth  of  a  huge  fire  which  burned  in  a  broad,  over- 
hanging chimney,  his  wet  clothing  rapidly  dried,  while 
a  sense  of  comfort  stole  over  his  chilled  frame.  His 
tall  host  opposite  him,  sat  silent  and  abstemious,  yet 
he  helped  his  guest  plentifully  to  food  and  wine. 

His  voracious  appetite  appeased,  Conrad  felt  phys- 
ically revived,  and  under  the  potent  influence  of  the 
wine  became  quite  talkative.  He  voluntarily  told  his 
host  his  name,  how  he  came  to  be  on  his  way  to  the 
tournament  at  Falkenstein  and  had  missed  his  road  in 
the  storm. 

Before  he  had  quite  finished  his  recital,  the  reaction 
consequent  on  his  desperate  fight  with  the  elements  set 
in.  He  was  soon  overcome  by  a  feeling  of  drowsiness. 


IN  PRISON.  25 

His  thoughts  became  so  clouded  that  he  did  not  notice 
the  sudden  change  which  spread  over  his  host's  dark 
visage. 

Though  sullen  before,  the  man's  brow  now  con- 
tracted into  a  portentous  frown.  He  paced  the  room 
to  and  fro  in  ominous  silence.  When  Conrad  asked 
his  name  in  return  for  his  own,  the  dark  knight  made 
answer,  his  brow  assuming  so  threatening  an  expres- 
sion withal,  that  the  guest  might  have  become  alarmed 
had  not  his  dazed  condition  rendered  him  almost  ob- 
livious : 

"I  am  an  old  knight,  who  knew  well  thy  father,  the 
Baron  von  Rheinstein,  for  many  years.  We  have 
fought  together  in  many  a  bout.  I  welcome  thee,  his 
son,  to  my  castle ;  but  I  am  somewhat  whimsical  and 
will  not  tell  thee  my -name  until  tomorrow.  Suffice  it 
for  the  night  that  thou  art  my  guest,  and  that  I  shall 
treat  thee  with  true  hospitality." 

Conrad  had  become  so  drowsy  that,  sitting  with 
eyes  half  closed,  he  failed  to  appreciate  the  full  import 
of  this  speech.  Making  an  incoherent  reply,  he  re- 
quested to  be  shown  to  his  room. 

The  tall,  sinister  knight  offered  to  escort  his  guest, 
begging  him  at  the  same  time  to  leave  his  sword  that 
it  might  be  dried  and  polished.  The  young  Knight 
instinctively  declined  to  do  this,  giving  as  a  reason 
that  the  weapon  had  not  left  his  side  day  nor 


26  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

night  since  he  had  received  it  from  the  hands  of  his 
dying  father.  The  host  made  no  answer.  Biting  his 
lip,  unnoticed  by  Conrad,  he  proceeded  to  lead  him 
to  his  chamber.  They  traversed  a  long  passage, 
climbed  a  flight  of  stairs  and  entered  a  small  room 
which  contained  a  couch,  chair  and  table.  A  dull 
wood  fire  smoldered  in  the  fireplace.  Hanging  the 
lamp  he  had  brought  on  a  hook  over  the  table,  and 
facing  his  guest  irresolutely  for  a  moment,  the  host 
left  suddenly,  without  a  word.  In  spite  of  all  his 
drowsiness,  this  action  struck  Conrad  as  exceedingly 
strange.  He  listened  to  the  heavy  retreating  foot- 
steps, and  laying  his  sword  on  the  table,  sat  down  to 
endeavor  to  collect  his  thoughts.  Too  sleepy  to  think 
clearly,  however,  he  would  have  thrown  himself  at 
once  on  the  couch,  had  not  a  vague  sense  of  some 
coming  evil  taken  possession  of  him.  Suddenly,  and 
for  the  first  time  that  day,  he  thought  of  his  enemy, 
Count  Hans.  Almost  at  the  same  moment  a  convic- 
tion flashed  across  his  mind  that  his  host,  the  very 
man  under  whose  roof  he  found  himself,  was  none 
other  than  his  old,  hereditary  foe.  Though  he  had 
never  before  seen  him,  something  in  his  conduct  as  he 
now  gradually  recalled  it  made  him  sure  that  danger 
was  nigh  at  .hand.  Instantly  he  became  wide  awake 
and  on  the  alert.  "Fool  that  I  was,"  he  exclaimed 
half  aloud.  "I  must  have  been  dazed  indeed,  thus  to 


IN  PRISON.  27 

have  placed  myself  in  this  man's  power.  In  spite  of 
the  peasant's  warning,  I  find  myself  under  the  roof 
and  at  the  mercy  of  the  one  human  being  in  all  the 
world  against  whom  I  have  sworn  deadly  vengeance." 

He  sprang  up  instinctively  and  paced  the  floor. 
Going  to  the  door  he  found  it  locked  from  the  outside. 
From  the  window  he  looked  out  into  the  black  night. 
The  rain  had  ceased,  but  right  beneath  him  he  heard, 
for  the  second  time  that  night,  that  strange  hissing 
sound  which  told  him  that  the  water  of  the  moat  was 
there  being  carried  underground  as  had  been  the  case 
with  the  raging  torrent  from  which  he  had  so  narrowly 
escaped  with  his  life.  He  felt  assured  that  should  he 
contrive  to  lower  himself  down  from  the  window,  he 
would  inevitably  be  drawn  into  that  vortex.  "I  am 
indeed  a  hopeless  prisoner,  and  at  the  mercy  of  my 
implacable  enemy;  but,"  he  muttered  between  his 
teeth,  "I  will  fight  to  the  last,  and  sell  my  life  dearly !" 

Presently  he  fancied  he  heard  footsteps  approaching. 
In  anticipation  of  some  immediate  danger,  he  grasped 
his  sword,  planting  himself  in  the  center  of  the  room 
in  an  attitude  of  defense.  As  he  thus  stood,  feeling  the 
beating  of  his  heart  midst  the  noise  of  the  hissing 
waters  below,  a  faint  knock  startled  him.  He  turned 
quickly  toward  the  point  whence  it  seemed  to  come; 
but  only  the  bare  wall  confronted  him.  Another  knock 
sounded,  somewhat  louder  than  the  first.  Conrad  in- 


28  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

voluntarily  bade  his  unknown  visitor  enter.  A  secret 
panel  opened  slowly.  The  form  of  a  young  girl,  clad 
in  white  flowing  robes,  met  his  astonished  gaze.  Her 
face,  framed  in  long,  dark,  wavy  tresses,  was  inde- 
scribably lovely.  She  was  pale,  and  trembled  visibly. 
Conrad  at  first  thought  her  a  vision  of  his  own  ex- 
cited brain;  but  when  he  beheld  the  beautiful  dark 
eyes  and  listened  to  the  soft,  musical  words  from  those 
sweet  lips,  he  knew  that  a  lovely  being,  half  child,  half 
woman,  stood  before  him. 

"I  have  come  to  save  thee,  Sir  Knight,"  said  she. 
"Thy  life  is  in  danger.  Follow  me,  there  is  no  time 
to  be  lost."  Motioning  to  Conrad  to  follow,  the  girl 
turned  back  to  the  secret  door.  He  detained  her,  say- 
ing: I  will  not  move  until  I  know  who  thou  art, 
and  why  thou  wishest  to  save  me  ?"  Hesitating  a  mo- 
ment, she  answered,  "I  am  Rosalie,  daughter  of  Hans 
von  Waldhorst.  On  account  of  something  thou  didst 
tell  him  tonight,  he  has  worked  himself  into  one  of  his 
relentless  fits  of  fury,  during  which  he  knows  not  what 
he  does.  I  overheard  him  giving  orders  to  his  men. 
I  fear  that  if  thou  essayest  to  defend  thyself  they  may 
kill  thee." 

"And  what,"  asked  Conrad,  "will  become  of  thee, 
fair  maiden,  when  he  finds  that  thou  hast  helped  me 
to  escape.  Rather  than  that  any  harm  should  come  to 
thee,  I  would  stay  and  brave  my  fate." 


I  have  come  to  save  thee,  Sir  Knight,"  said  she. 


IN  PRISON.  29 

"It  would  be  useless,"  she  replied,  quickly ;  "besides, 
no  one  will  know  of  my  coming  here,  if  thou  wilt  but 
follow  me  now." 

She  stood  in  an  attitude  so  beseeching,  extending 
her  little  white  hand  toward  Conrad  the  while,  that  he 
no  longer  resisted.  Grasping  his  sword  firmly,  he 
allowed  her  to  lead  him  on.  They  entered  a  narrow 
passage,  through  which  the  trembling  girl,  feeling  her 
way  in  the  total  darkness,  silently  guided  her  com- 
panion. Descending  cautiously  a  flight  of  narrow, 
winding  stairs,  they  halted  at  the  head  of  another 
passage,  when  Rosalie,  releasing  Conrad's  hand,  whis- 
pered hurriedly:  "I  must  leave  thee  here  to  proceed 
alone.  Feel  thy  way  against  the  wall  on  thy  left,  until 
thou  reachest  an  open  trap  door — through  it  thou  wilt 
gain  the  courtyard  and  the  bridge  beyond.  Take  the 
road  to  the  right;  follow  the  river  downward  until 
thou  reachest  a  ferry  opposite  a  Benedictine  Monas- 
tery ;  there  inquire  thy  way.  Go  at  once.  There  is  no 
time  to  be  lost.  May  God  speed  thee !" 

Ere  Conrad  could  reply  she  was  gone,  leaving  him 
alone  in  the  darkness.  He  heard  her  light  footsteps 
swiftly  and  softly  ascending  the  winding  stairs.  Care- 
fully feeling  his  way  toward  the  left,  he  moved  for- 
ward as  rapidly  as  possible.  A  faint  light  showed  him 
that  he  was  nearing  the  open  trap  door  referred  to  by 
his  gentle  guide.  He  had  not  yet  reached  it,  when 


30  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

suddenly  another  door  in  the  opposite  wall  was  thrown 
open,  and  a  flood  of  light  betrayed  him  to  those  within. 
At  the  same  time  he  recognized  his  whilom  host  and 
inveterate  enemy,  Count  Hans  von  Waldhorst,  ad- 
vancing upon  him  at  the  head  of  a  body  of  armed 
men.  Realizing  his  danger,  he  ran  swiftly  to  the  trap 
door,  sprang  through  it,  and  closed  it  behind  him. 
Quickly  crossing  the  courtyard,  he  gained  the  bridge. 
There,  to  his  great  dismay,  he  found  himself  con- 
fronted by  a  solid  line  of  soldiery,  belated  retainers  of 
the  Count,  returning  from  some  predatory  expedi- 
tion. Behind  him  the  harsh  voice  of  his  enraged  en- 
emy, hounding  on  his  men  to  the  capture  of  the  fugi- 
tive, greeted  his  ears.  Hemmed  in  on  all  sides,  his 
chances  of  escape  seemed  desperate.  His  first  impulse 
was  to  stand  and,  if  need  be,  sell  his  life  dearly.  His 
second  thought  was  in  favor  of  discretion,  since  es- 
cape would  be  far  preferable  to  death.  This  he  es- 
sayed to  effect  by  throwing  himself  over  one  side  of 
the  drawbridge,  for  the  second  time  on  that  mem- 
orable night  trusting  himself  to  the  treacherous  waters. 
He  felt  himself  tossed  about  by  a  whirlpool  where 
the  water  burst  into  the  moat.  Holding  his  sword 
aloft  in  one  strong  hand,  with  the  other  he  struck  out 
boldly  and  succeeded  in  reaching  a  smoother  current. 
It  occurred  to  him  that  in  case  of  pursuit  the  direction 
he  had  just  taken  would  most  naturally  be  followed  by 


IN  PRISON.  31 

his  pursuers.  Being  veiled  by  the  darkness,  he  turned 
and  swam  beneath  the  bridge  close  to  the  castle  wall, 
where  he  gained  a  momentary  foothold  on  a  strong 
ledge.  Buckling  his  sword  once  more  across  his  back, 
he  swam  out,  determined  to  continue  on  this  altered 
course.  A  most  fortwnate  move  it  proved;  for  on 
looking  backward,  he  plainly  descried  the  followers  of 
Count  Hans  with  torches,  in  the  act  of  launching  a 
boat,  and  saw  them  set  out  in  the  direction  that  he  had 
first  taken.  With  a  vigorous  stroke  he  rounded  a  turn 
in  the  moat,  which  effectually  hid  him  from  sight. 
Well-nigh  exhausted  by  his  efforts,  he  allowed  him- 
self to  drift  onward  without  knowing  whither  the  cur- 
rent was  bearing  him ;  nor  did  he  notice  its  increasing 
rapidity,  until  he  realized  suddenly,  with  a  feeling  of 
intensified  alarm,  that  he  was  nearing  the  spot  be- 
neath the  window  of  the  room  he  had  occupied  in  the 
castle,  where  the  waters  of  the  moat  disappeared  un- 
derground. He  attempted  to  turn  back  and  stem  the 
current,  but  found  it  impossible.  Three  desperate 
strokes  brought  him  against  the  perpendicular  wall  of 
the  castle.  On  making  a  grasp  at  random  in  the  dark- 
ness, his  hand  luckily  fell  upon  a  flat  stone  near  the 
water's  edge,  which  had  a  short  iron  post  imbedded  in 
it.  His  fingers  tightened  around  this  welcome  hold, 
thus  partially  supporting  his  body  as  it  rested  upon 
the  gliding  water.  After  another  struggle,  he  gained 


32          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

a  precarious  foothold  on  the  stony  ledge.  Though 
greatly  exhausted  he  was  safe  for  a  moment  and 
thanked  God  for  a  second  escape  from  a  watery  grave. 

What  should  he  do  next?  The  boat  in  which  his 
enemies  were  pursuing  him  around  the  Castle,  might 
even  now  be  upon  him.  While  in  this  desperate  strait, 
with  no  apparent  means  of  escape,  an  accident,  or  as  he 
afterwards  believed,  a  providential  interposition,  re- 
vealed to  him  a  most  unexpected  place  of  concealment. 
Something  hard  fell  upon  his  head,  followed  quickly 
by  another  piece.  This  he  caught,  and  discovered  it 
was  dry  mortar.  Looking  up  he  saw  a  light  faintly  re- 
flected in  the  moist  atmosphere.  Feeling  sure  that  it 
came  from  the  window  above  him,  he  raised  himself 
up  as  far  as  possible  on  his  toes,  reached  to  and  grasped 
a  ledge,  drew  himself  upward  and  faced  a  narrow 
opening  in  the  solid  wall,  from  which  all  the  bars  save 
one  had  been  removed.  Here  he  was  confronted  by  an 
alarmed  human  face,  looking  from  a  prison  cell  within. 
Seizing  the  remaining  iron  bar,  he  raised  himself  to 
the  level  of  the  window,  and  forced  his  way,  with 
the  greatest  difficulty,  into  this  unexpected  hiding- 
place. 

Scarcely  had  his  feet  touched  the  floor,  and  ere  he 
had  time  to  speak  to  the  occupant  of  the  gloomy  re- 
treat, his  ear  caught  the  voices  of  his  pursuers  as  they 
pulled  their  boat  along  this  most  dangerous  part  of 


IN  PRISON.  33 

the  moat  by  means  of  the  iron  posts  imbedded  in  the 
flat  stones,  which  were  placed  at  intervals  for  a  con- 
siderable distance  along  the  Castle  wall.  A  moment 
later  he  had  been  lost.  Listening  intently,  he  caught 
the  words  of  the  following  colloquy,  uttered  in  gruff 
tones  of  disappointment.  Said  one,  "He  must  have 
been  swallowed  up  in  yonder  hole.  It  will  hardly  pay 
us  to  look  any  further."  Said  another,  "He  may  have 
found  a  foothold  on  one  of  the  stones  farther  on.  We 
had  better  explore  the  entire  moat.  I  am  grievously 
thirsty  though,  for  the  smoke  of  these  damned  torches 
has  gotten  into  my  throat !  Devil  a  bite  or  a  sip  will 
we  get  from  the  mad  Count  if  we  return  without  our 
game."  The  last  words  were  scarcely  audible;  soon 
they  died  away  completely  in  the  distance. 

Conrad  now  turned  to  the  prisoner  on  whose  soli- 
tude he  had  so  unceremoniously  intruded.  In  the  dim 
light  of  a  miserable  lamp,  he  saw,  confronting  him,  a 
middle-aged  man  of  commanding  presence  and  noble 
features,  who  regarded  him  with  mute  astonishment. 
The  young  Knight  spoke  first,  inquiring  the  name  of 
his  fellow  prisoner. 

"I  am  the  Duke  of  Falkenstein,"  replied  the  latter, 
"imprisoned  here  by  the  treacherous  Baron  Hans  von 
Waldhorst.  And  who  art  thou,  young  sir?  How 
earnest  thou  to  enter  by  that  window  which  I  had  pre- 
pared for  my  escape  this  very  night?"  Conrad,  as- 


34          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

tounded  to  find  himself  face  to  face  with  the  Duke  at 
whose  castle  the  tournaments  to  which  he  had  been 
hastening  were  to  be  held,  rapidly  told  him  every- 
thing, adding  that  thanks  to  the  timely  removal  of 
those  bars  he  had  been  able  to  elude  his  pursuers. 
Duke  Henry  expressed  himself  as  overjoyed,  even 
under  such  unfortunate  circumstances,  at  meeting  a 
son  of  his  old  friend,  the  Baron  von  Rheinstein,  and 
the  brother  of  the  favorite  young  squire  who  had  been 
brought  up  and  knighted  at  Falkenstein  previous  to 
his  ill-fated  departure  to  the  Holy  Land. 

"I  had  hoped,"  lie  continued,  "to  have  escaped  this 
very  night,  but  I  have  partaken  such  meager  fare  since 
my  confinement,  that  after  the  exertion  of  breaking 
out  thos,e  bars  I  am  too  weak  to  continue  the  attempt." 

"Count  Hans,"  the  nobleman  continued,  "a  former 
friend  of  mine,  met  me  at  the  chase,  as  he  had  done 
before.  This  time  he  asked  me  for  the  hand  of  my 
daughter,  and  on  my  refusal,  fell  into  a  violent  rage, 
which  culminated  in  a  mad  paroxysm  the  like  of  which 
I  had  never  seen.  The  result  was  that,  by  taking  me 
unawares,  he  overcame  my  few  attendants  and  my- 
self, and  imprisoned  us.  He  hopes  in  this  way  to  force 
my  consent.  Meanwhile  my  daughter  must  be  un- 
dergoing the  greatest  anxiety  on  my  account.  About 
four  days  from  this  time,  as  near  as  I  can  tell,  having 
but  imperfectly  kept  the  record  during  my  confine- 


IN  PRISON.  35 

ment,  the  tournament  in  honor  of  her  birthday  is  to 
take  place.  I  ought  to  have  returned  two  weeks  ago. 
She  has  undoubtedly  sent  messengers  after  me  in  all 
directions,  including  this  place;  but  Count  Hans  has 
assuredly  denied  all  knowledge  of  me.  He  expects 
my  final  answer  tomorrow,  and  I  know  not  what  he 
will  do  if  I  refuse  his  wish.  For  that  reason  I  tried 
to  escape,  breaking  out  those  bars  with  the  help  of  the 
implements  in  yonder  corner,  smuggled  in  to  me  by 
the  Count's  daughter,  Rosalie,  the  same  brave  damsel 
who  released  thee.  My  confinement,  alas,  has  ren- 
dered me  unable  to  proceed.  The  Count  knows  of  my 
weak  condition,"  continued  the  Duke,  in  a  feeble  voice, 
"and  he  hopes  to  profit  by  it.  If  I  give  him  a  favorable 
answer  on  the  morrow,  it  is  arranged  that  we  proceed 
to  Falkenstein  together,  and  the  festivities  can  still 
take  place.  But  what  of  my  promise  to  give  her  to 
him  in  marriage?  I  feel  sure  that  she  would  never 
willingly  consent,  and  I  would  never  force  her  against 
her  will."  The  Duke  ceased  speaking,  being  quite  ex- 
hausted, and  stretched  himself  at  full  length  on  his 
bed  of  straw,  which  was  spread  upon  the  bare  stone 
floor. 

Conrad  reflected  for  a  few  moments  on  what  he  had 
heard ;  then  he  said,  "We  are  both  on  our  way  to 
Falkenstein,  noble  Duke,  and  I  propose  that  we  start 
together  this  very  night.  Delay  is  dangerous.  •  Should 
the  Count,  who  believes  me  to  be  drowned,  find  me 


36          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

with  thee,  my  lord,  here  in  the  prison,  no  one  can  tell 
what  would  be  the  consequence.  We  might  fight ;  but 
what  chance  would  we  have,  almost  unarmed,  against 
this  man  and  his  band  of  hirelings?  We  must  escape 
this  very  night.  I  am  strong  enough  to  take  thee  with 
me." 

"Alas,  young  sir,"  answered  the  Duke,  "thou  wilt 
never  be  able  to  take  me.  Go  thyself  and  report  to 
my  daughter,  who  will  without  delay  take  measures  to 
obtain  my  liberty." 

"What,"  cried  Conrad ;  "go  and  leave  thee,  my  lord, 
here  at  his  mercy?  Never!  Fear  not,  good  sir!  I 
have  faith  in  our  success." 

After  a  while  the  Duke  yielded  to  the  young  man's 
entreaties;  but  only  on  condition  that,  if  he  himself 
on  their  way  should  feel  unable  to  proceed,  Conrad 
should  go  alone.  To  this  arrangement  the  latter 
agreed;  but  with  the  inward  reservation  that,  come 
what  might,  he  would  never  desert  his  father's  old 
friend. 

Duke  Henry  showed  him  a  double  hook  with  a  long 
line  attached,  which  Rosalie  had  smuggled  in  to  him, 
intended  to  enable  him  to  reach  the  rocky  wall  which 
surrounded  the  moat. 

Conrad  set  to  work  at  once,  practicing  the  throwing 
of  the  rope  so  as  to  fasten  it  to  the  window  ledge  above, 
while  the  Duke,  stretched  at  ease  on  his  pallet,  con- 
tinued to  talk  about  his  treacherous  friend,  Count 
Hans. 


IN  PRISON.  37 

"Hans  von  Waldhorst/'  said  he,  "has,  besides  the 
daughter  thou  hast  seen,  a  son  older  than  she,  named 
Hugo,  and  also  an  adopted  child,  who,  in  her  way,  is  a 
most  remarkable  girl.  His  wife,  as  fair  and  good  a 
woman  as  one  might  find,  died  some  years  ago.  Since 
then  Count  Hans  has  been  a  changed  man.  My 
daughter  knows  him  well,  and  though  she  has  shown 
no  violent  dislike  toward  him,  has  not  favored  his 
suit.  He  has  held  his  own  in  the  lists  until  lately, 
when  he  met  more  than  his  match  in  a  gigantic  Pom- 
eranian prince,  also  an  aspirant  for  the  hand  of  the 
Princess  Ursula.  She  is  as  averse,  however,  to  the 
latter's  suit  as  to  that  of  the  wily  Count.  Rosalie,  the 
Count's  own  daughter,  is  a  lovely,  brave  little  maid. 
Hugo,  her  brother,  a  noble  lad,  and  the  only  one  able 
to  exercise  any  control  over  their  father,  remains,  alas, 
for  weeks  at  a  time,  absent  in  the  forest  with  Volga, 
that  wild  child  of  the  woods,  in  ignorance  of  his  father's 
doings.  Would  that  Count  Hans  were  dead,  if  only 
for  the  sake  of  his  children !  If  we  but  succeed  in  our 
escape,  Conrad  von  Rheinstein,  we  will  teach  him  a 
lesson  which  he  will  never  forget.  One  who  has  so 
treacherously  broken  the  laws  of  hospitality  and  so 
cruelly  detained  me  here,  deserves  the  severest  pun- 
ishment !  What  sayest  thou  ?" 

"Yes,"  said  Conrad;  "and  let  me  add — one  who 
has  destroyed  my  ancestral  castle  and  killed  my  mother 
shall  have  that  punishment  meted  out  to  him !" 


38          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  ESCAPE. 

"There's  no  impossibility  to  him 

Who  stands  prepared  to  conquer  every  hazard." 

— Mrs.   Hale. 

Shortly  before  the  hour  of  twelve  on  that  dismal 
night,  while  the  howling  wind  was  still  chasing  black 
clouds  over  the  towers  of  Waldhorst  Castle,  two  fig- 
ures emerged  cautiously  from  the  narrow  prison  win- 
dow, the  last  bar  of  which  had  been  removed.  Low- 
ering themselves  down  the  massive  wall,  their  feet 
rested  upon  a  flat  stone  projecting  just  above  the 
water's  edge,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  adjoined  others 
extending  for  a  considerable  distance  along  the  inner 
wall  of  the  moat.  Stepping  from  one  to  the  other  they 
reached  the  last,  from  which  they  lowered  themselves 
into  the  water.  The  cold  shock  gave  the  elder  of  the 
two  fugitives,  Duke  Henry  von  Falkenstein,  a  sud- 
den chill,  which  rendered  him  incapable  of  action. 
Conrad  came  to  his  assistance.  Bidding  him  carry 
his  sword  while  placing  one  hand  on  his  shoulder  for 


THE  ESCAPE.  39 

support,  he  swam  with  him  across  the  moat.  There 
he  at  once  threw  the  hook,  hoping  to  make  it  catch  on 
the  top  of  the  outer  rocks,  but  failed.  Again  he  threw 
it,  and  again  missed  his  aim.  Suddenly  the  Duke  re- 
leased him,  crying:  "Conrad,  I  can  hold  on  no  longer ! 
Take  thy  sword  and  save  thyself!"  Our  hero  was  at 
his  side  in  a  moment.  Taking  the  weapon  cross-wise 
between  his  teeth,  and  supporting  the  Duke  with  his 
left  hand,  he  made  ready  for  another  throw.  During 
that  time  the  current  had  been  carrying  them  slowly 
backward  toward  the  threatening  hole,  and  Conrad 
fully  realized  their  immediate  danger.  Gathering  all 
his  strength  for  a  supreme  effort,  he  made  the  third 
throw.  Fortunately  the  hook  caught;  at  the  same 
moment,  he  knew  by  the  dead  weight  resting  on  his 
arm  that  the  Duke  had  lost  consciousness. 

He  threw  his  sword  ashore,  and  quickly  grasping  the 
rope,  fastened  its  end  around  the  now  helpless  body  of 
his  companion.  Hand  over  hand  he  climbed  to  the 
bank  above.  This  was  a  difficult  feat,  but  a  still  more 
arduous  task  awaited  him.  Not  a  moment  was  to  be 
lost.  He  was  obliged  to  stand  close  to  the  moat's 
edge  to  lift  the  body  of  the  Duke  which,  in  its  utter 
helplessness,  with  the  saturated  clothing,  seemed  a 
weight  of  lead.  Great  beads  of  perspiration  stood  on 
Conrad's  brow,  as,  leaning  over  far  enough  to  let  him 
swing  clear  of  the  wall,  he  raised  and  landed  his  still 


40  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

unconscious  friend  safely  on  the  bank  beside  him. 
Hardly  waiting  to  get  his  breath,  he  picked  up  his 
sword,  shouldered  the  Duke  and  started  with  him  for 
some  trees  near  by.  While  staggering  along,  he  saw  a 
light  not  far  off,  coming  from  some  human  habitation. 

As  he  approached  the  spot  it  proved  to  be  a  mis- 
erable wooden  hut  built  against  a  rock.  He  perceived 
the  figure  of  a  woman  standing  in  the  doorway.  A 
dog  sprang  at  them,  barking  furiously;  and  as  Con- 
rad turned  to  drive  him  off,  he  nearly  lost  his  balance ; 
but  recovering  quickly,  carried  his  burden  uncere- 
moniously into  the  hut. 

To  his  astonishment,  the  woman  welcomed  him  in 
a  most  friendly  manner,  calling  him  by  name,  and  ad- 
ding that  she  had  been  expecting  both  him  and  the 
Duke  of  Falkenstein. 

Conrad  placed  his  companion  before  the  roaring 
fire  in  the  center  of  the  hut,  the  smoke  of  which  es- 
caped through  a  hole  in  the  roof  directly  above.  A 
kettle  steamed  over  the  flames,  diffusing  a  most  agree- 
able odor  throughout  the  room.  Before  he  had  re- 
covered sufficient  breath  to  speak,  the  woman,  who 
seemed  prepared  for  everything,  had  filled  an  earthen 
vessel  from  the  contents  of  the  kettle.  Pouring  out  a 
part  of  it,  which  she  allowed  to  cool  for  a  moment, 
she  succeeded  in  making  the  unconscious  visitor  swal- 
low the  draught.  Its  beneficial  effect  became  appar- 


THE  ESCAPE  41 

ent  at  once.  Soon  after,  under  the  additional  influence 
of  the  warmth  from  the  fire,  the  Duke  opened  his  eyes 
and  asked  where  he  was. 

"With  a  friend,"  replied  the  woman ;  "the  'Witch  of 
Waldhorst'  so-called,  I  know  not  why,  unless  it  be 
that  I  cure  the  sick  and  foretell  some  of  the  events 
that  happen  in  yonder  castle.  I  knew  that  you,  my 
lord,  and  your  noble  companion  would  escape  from 
Count  Hans  tonight.  I  expected  you  here." 

While  she  was  speaking,  Conrad  looked  about  the 
hut,  discovering  in  it  an  old  table,  one  chair  besides 
that  in  which  the  Duke  sat,  and  a  pile  of  rubbish  in 
one  corner.  He  now  observed  the  woman  more  close- 
ly. Tall,  though  considerably  shrunken  by  age,  she 
still  retained  traces  of  former  beauty;  but  the  wan 
features,  wild  lustrous  eyes,  toothless  mouth,  and  the 
rags  in  which  she  was  clad,  made  a  most  weird  pic- 
ture. The  Duke  asked  her  how  she  came  to  know 
of  their  imprisonment  and  escape. 

"I  read  the  firmament,"  she  answered.  "I  watch  an 
evil  star  which  follows  Count  Hans  von  Waldhorst. 
The  time  is  nearing  when  he  will  suffer  for  his  iniqui- 
ties. He  once  professed  to  love  me,  then  expelled  me 
from  yonder  castle  and  married  me  to  one  of  his  vas- 
sals. My  husband,  and  a  son  whom  I  loved,  met  their 
death  at  his  hand.  I  am  sworn  to  avenge  them.  I  was 
not  always  what  you  see  me  now.  I  was  beautiful 


42  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

once,  and  dwelt  a  lady  in  yonder  castle.  Now  I  am 
old  and  ugly  and  have  but  a  short  time  to  live;  but, 
mark  my  words,  before  I  die  Count  Hans  will  meet 
his  fate !  and  I  shall  be  there  to  see  him  suffer." 

The  woman  had  drawn  herself  up  to  her  full  height, 
as  with  raised  hands  and  flashing  eyes  she  spoke  these 
words ;  but  suddenly  her  attitude  changed  into  one  of 
listening.  The  dog  barked.  "Someone  is  coming," 
she  cried ;  "quick,  my  Lord,  and  you,  Sir  Knight ;  you 
must  not  be  found  here !" 

She  assisted  the  Duke  in  rising,  and  pulled  him  and 
Conrad  into  the  corner,  where,  pushing  aside  a  seem- 
ingly solid  mass,  which,  to  their  astonishment,  proved 
to  be  a  number  of  articles  cunningly  secured  together 
so  as  to  resemble  an  accidental  accumulation  of  rub- 
bish, she  disclosed  a  niche  in  the  rocky  wall,  large 
enough  to  hold  the  two  fugitives.  Hurrying  them  into 
this  space,  she  replaced  the  barrier,  effectually  con- 
cealing them. 

A  moment  later,  Rosalie,  the  Count's  daughter,  ran, 
pale  and  trembling,  into  the  hut,  her  figure  thinly  clad, 
her  dark  hair  floating  at  her  back.  The  dog  greeted 
her  with  a  bark  of  joyful  recognition. 

"Oh,  save  me!"  she  panted,  beseechingly.  "My 
father  is  pursuing  me — he  has  discovered  that  I  helped 
his  captives  to  escape,  and  is  beside  himself  with  rage. 
I  fear  for  my  life!" 


THE  ESCAPE.  43 

Voices  were  heard  at  the  door,  which  the  old  wo- 
man, with  great  presence  of  mind,  had  locked  while 
Rosalie  was  yet  speaking.  She  now  pulled  and  pushed 
the  girl,  in  all  haste,  into  the  same  small  space  behind 
the  barrier,  where  the  Duke  and  Conrad  were  hidden. 

We  can  imagine  the  girl's  astonishment,  when  by 
the  flickering  light,  she  recognized  the  young  knight 
whom  she  believed  to  have  been  drowned,  and  Duke 
Henry.  As  the  barrier  closed  behind  her,  she  found 
herself  almost  thrust  into  Conrad's  arms. 

Before  either  of  them  could  speak,  words  were  heard 
within  the  hut.  Rosalie,  recognizing  her  father's  voice, 
listened  with  a  terrified  heart. 

They  heard  Count  Hans,  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  de- 
mand his  daughter  of  the  witch. 

"Tell  me  where  she  is,"  he  cried,  "or  I  will  kill  thee !" 

"What  know  I  of  thy  daughter,  Count  Hans?" 
boldly  replied  the  witch,  the  dog  meanwhile,  at  her 
bidding  having  retired  growling  into  a  corner.  "Is 
she  fleeing  from  thee,  her  father?  How  can  I  protect 
her  from  such  as  thou  ?  Guilty  as  thou  art  of  so  many 
crimes,  does  thy  wrath  extend  even  to  thine  own 
child?  For  shame,  Count  Hans!  Beware!  I  tell 
thee  thy  punishment  is  at  hand !" 

The  Count,  though  shaken  for  a  moment  by  the 
woman's  fearless  manner,  cried  out  with  renewed  fury : 
"Hold  thy  tongue,  old  hag,  or  I  will  tear  it  out !  I  will 


44          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

burn  thee  and  thy  old  hut  together.  Here,  ye  rascals ! 
bring  the  torches  and  fire  this  damned  den." 

They  paused  involuntarily,  however,  as  the  witch 
with  flashing  eyes  confronted  them,  exclaiming: 
"Hold !  have  a  care,  Count  Hans !  If  thou  dare  harm 
me  thou  shalt  be  struck  dead  this  very  night.  I  tell 
thee  I  have  read  it  in  the  stars  of  heaven.  Thou  shalt 
be  struck  dead  at  midnight,  and  my  ghost  shall  be 
present  to  see  thee  die!" 

She  concluded  this  startling  address  with  an  un- 
earthly laugh,  and  perceiving  its  effect  on  the  Count, 
she  added:  "Thou  art  a  coward!  Thou  darest  not 
destroy  me !"  And  she  laughed  so  hideously  that  the 
Count  and  his  followers  shuddered. 

In  another  moment,  however,  the  enraged  Knight 
regained  courage  and  struck  the  woman  so  violent  a 
blow  with  his  clenched  fist  that  she  dropped  to  the 
ground  at  his  feet.  Hurling  a  volley  of  oaths  at  her 
prostrate  form,  he  cried  to  his  men :  "I  have  no  time 
to  listen  to  such  accursed  trash.  Move  on,  ye  rascals — 
search  the  forest." 

He  left  the  hut,  closing  the  door  after  him  with  such 
violence  that  it  almost  fell  from  its  hinges.  Raising 
herself  on  one  hand,  the  old  woman  listened  to  the 
retreating  footsteps;  then,  thanking  God  for  having 
been  able  to  conceal  the  fugitives  so  effectually,  reac- 
tion followed  and  she  sank  back  in  a  dead  swoon. 


THE  ESCAPE.  45 

The  three  fugitives,  caged  in  their  narrow  space,  had 
heard  every  word  spoken  in  the  hut.  Conrad  was 
tempted  several  times  to  force  back  the  frail  barrier 
and  confront  the  Count,  but  Rosalie  prevented  him. 
Now  that  everything  was  still,  they  wondered  why 
they  were  not  released.  They  tried  gently  to  push 
back  the  screen,  but  found  that  it  was  secured  on  the 
outside. 

"Do  not  let  us  force  our  way  out  yet,"  said  the 
Duke ;  "we  might  find  ourselves  in  a  worse  place." 

Conrad  coincided  mentally  in  this  opinion ;  for  not- 
withstanding the  danger  of  their  position,  he  could  not 
fail  to  appreciate  the  romantic  situation  of  being  in 
such  close  neighborhood  to  the  sweet  child,  who  on 
that  night  and  at  her  own  peril,  had  rescued  him  from 
so  great  a  danger.  He  took  her  soft  little  hand  in  his, 
and  she  did  not  withdraw  it. 

The  naturally  damp  and  close  atmosphere  of  their 
narrow  retreat  was  greatly  relieved  by  an  opening  over 
what  seemed  a  wooden  partition  at  their  back,  which 
served  as  a  ventilator,  and  through  which  they  heard, 
afar  off,  the  roaring  of  water. 

Duke  Henry  first  called  the  attention  of  his  fellow 
fugitives  to  this  distant  noise,  wondering  the  while 
what  lay  beyond  that  wooden  wall.  He  then  asked 
Rosalie  how  it  happened  that  she  also  had  to  fly  from 
her  father. 


46          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

In  a  voice  still  trembling  with  excitement  she  told 
them  that  her  father  had  first  suspected  her  brother 
Hugo,  who  had  returned  from  the  forest  that  night, 
of  having  aided  Conrad's  escape.  When  her  father  ac- 
cused the  boy,  he  denied  it  so  emphatically  that  the 
Count,  despite  his  fury,  believed  him.  As  Hugo,  later 
on,  sat  in  his  sister's  chamber  listening  to  her  excited 
recital  of  all  that  had  occurred,  the  Count,  who  had 
just  discovered  in  the  secret  dust-covered  passages 
the  footsteps  of  herself  and  Conrad,  suddenly  con- 
fronted them,  his  face  livid  with  rage. 

Whether  or  not  it  was  his  intention  to  do  bodily 
harm  to  his  daughter  they  were  not  at  all  sure ;  but  he 
swore  so  horribly  and  advanced  toward  her  in  so 
threatening  a  manner  and  with  so  wild  a  look  that  she 
sprang  from  her  couch  in  terror.  As  her  father  again 
turned  upon  her,  Hugo,  now  thoroughly  alarmed, 
threw  himself  between  them.  Being  unable  to  appease 
the  madman  by  words,  he  seized  hold  of  him,  calling 
to  his  sister  to  fly.  Taking  only  time  to  put  on  her 
shoes  and  throw  a  light  mantle  around  her,  she  fled 
out  of  the  castle. 

"You  know  the  rest," said  she ;  "and  you  can  imagine 
how  astonished  and  rejoiced  I  was  to  find  you  both 
alive.  I  hope  that  no  harm  came  to  my  brother.  God 
alone  knows  what  will  become  of  us,"  she  added, 
bursting  into  tears. 


THE  ESCAPE.  47 

Conrad  yearned  to  kiss  away  her  tears,  and  as  Rosa- 
lie with  great  difficulty  raised  her  hand  to  dry  them, 
he  sought  to  place  his  own  strong  arm  around  her  by 
way  of  consoling  as  well  as  protecting  her.  Her  close 
proximity  to  the  barrier,  however,  rendered  this  im- 
possible. He  was  forced  to  content  himself  with  rais- 
ing her  little  hand  to  his  lips. 

"Listen,  dear  Rosalie,"  sSid  the  Duke ;  "should  we 
make  good  our  escape  and  reach  Falkenstein,  I  shall 
desire  to  have  thee  remain  with  us.  My  daughter  will 
welcome  thee  as  a  sister,  and  my  wife  will  cherish  thee 
as  a  daughter."  The  maiden  expressed  her  gratitude 
with  an  overflowing  heart ;  but  added  hesitatingly  that 
she  thought  it  her  duty  to  return  to  her  father  'as  soon 
as  his  fit  of  madness  passed  away. 

"No,  my  child,"  answered  Duke  Henry ;  "not  for  the 
present,  at  all  events.  Thou  must  tarry  with  us.  What 
sayest  thou,  Sir  Knight  ?" 

"I  will  be  a  brother  to  Rosalie,"  answered  Conrad ; 
"she  has  saved  my  life  and  I  shall  devote  mine  to  her 
in  return." 

As  he  spoke  he  affectionately  pressed  the  hand  still 
resting  in  his  own.  She,  in  return,  pressed  his  to  her 
heart.  She  had  thought  him  dead,  this  tall,  splendid 
young  Knight;  and  in  the  joy  of  finding  him  alive, 
displayed  her  feelings  with  the  childlike  directness 
and  innocence,  which  was  not  misunderstood  by  Con- 


48          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

rad's  chivalric  nature.  For  the  time  being,  finding 
herself  so  near  him,  a  sense  of  belonging  to  him  took 
possession  of  Rosalie — a  feeling  which  she  did  not  try 
to  explain  to  herself. 

Everything  remained  quiet  without.  The  Duke 
now  believed  that  it  would  be  safe  to  at  least  partially 
force  back  the  light  barrier,  and  look  into  the  cabin. 

At  this  moment  the  sound  of  a  cough  reached  their 
ears,  which  caused  them  to  pause.  It  proceeded  from 
the  old  woman,  who  under  the  ceaseless  efforts  of  her 
dog  in  licking  her  hands  and  face,  was  recovering  from 
her  swoon.  In  a  few  moments  she  fully  revived,  and  her 
thoughts  reverted  to  the  fugitives.  Not  knowing  how 
long  she  had  been  unconscious,  nor  what  might  have 
happened  meanwhile,  she  tottered  across  the  room  to 
the  hiding  place,  and  after  some  difficulty  in  unfasten- 
ing the  barrier,  pushed  it  back  with  her  trembling 
hands. 

Rosalie  would  have  fallen  backward  had  not  Con- 
rad caught  her  in  his  arms.  He  would  gladly  have 
kept  her  there ;  but  all  their  attention  was  instantly  at- 
tracted by  the  significant  movements  of  the  witch. 
Entering  the  niche  as  they  vacated  it,  she  opened  a 
door  in  the  rear,  saying,  "There  lies  your  way  of  es- 
cape. This  is  the  entrance  to  an  underground  pas- 
sage, which  leads  to  a  long  cave  through  which  the 
waters  from  the  moat  are  carried  toward  the  river. 


THE  ESCAPE.  49 

The  waterway,  which  is  partly  the  work  of  nature, 
my  husband  and  son  assisted  in  constructing.  The 
passage  which  leads  to  it  was  secretly  built  by  my 
boy.  At  the  end  of  it  you  will  find,  fastened  to  a 
stone  in  a  small  natural  haven  formed  by  protruding 
rocks,  two  boats,  also  built  by  him,  an4  meant  for  our 
joint  escape,  had  he  lived.  Take  the  first  and  larger 
of  these — it  will  carry  you  safely  through  the  cave  to 
the  channel  and  down  the  main  river.  By  letting 
yourselves  drift,  as  you  must  needs  do,  you  will  reach 
the  Benedictine  Monastery  an  hour  before  noon. 
There  abandon  the  boat.  It  will  have  served  a  noble 
cause.  I  shall  no  longer  need  it." 

The  Duke,  who,  with  his  companions,  had  listened 
attentively  to  the  old  woman's  directions,  now  took 
her  withered  hand,  saying:  "We  owe  thee  our  lib- 
erty, good  woman.  To  repay  thee  for  thy  goodness 
we  will  do  all  in  our  power  for  thy  future  comfort  and 
happiness.  Come  with  us.  I  will  gladly  care  for  thee 
to  the  end  of  thy  days." 

"You  can  do  nothing  for  me,  noble  Duke,"  an- 
swered the  woman.  "I  am  already  paid  if  you  but 
succeed  in  making  your  escape.  My  days  are  num- 
bered. I  shall  live  long  enough  to  see  Count  Hans 
breathe  his  pitiful  last.  Forgive  me,  sweet  Mistress 
Rosalie,"  she  added,  "for  speaking  thus  of  thy  father ; 
but  he  and  I  have  some  accounts  to  settle.  Fate  has 

4 


SO          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

decreed  in  what  manner  this  shall  be  done.  None  of 
his  children  shall  suffer  by  it." 

After  delivering  this  mysterious  speech  she  stepped 
back  into  the  cabin  and  poured  out  for  each  of  her 
guests  a  glass  of  the  same  liquid  which  had  so  wonder- 
fully revived  the  Duke.  She  also  placed  two  bottles  of 
it,  and  some  food,  in  an  old  basket,  which  she  handed, 
together  with  a  lighted  lamp,  to  Conrad.  To  Rosalie 
she  gave,  to  protect  her  from  the  night  air,  a  blanket 
from  her  couch.  The  girl  at  first  declined  to  take  it, 
but  the  old  woman  insisted,  saying :  "Thy  life  is  more 
precious  than  mine,  dear  child."  Then,  being  anxious 
that  the  fugitives  should  get  beyond  the  reach  of  their 
enemies  under  cover  of  the  night,  she  bade  them  fare- 
well, commending  them  to  God's  keeping. 

The  Duke  reminding  her  that  she  would  always 
find  a  friend  and  protector  in  him,  they  entered  the 
passage,  Conrad  and  Rosalie  taking  the  lead. 

As  the  door  closed  behind  them,  the  old  woman 
stepped  back  into  the  cabin.  Throwing  herself  upon 
her  cheerless  couch,  without  a  blanket  to  cover  her, 
she  lay  by  the  dying  embers  of  the  fire,  shivering  and 
coughing  for  several  hours.  At  length  she  fell  into  a 
troubled  sleep,  calling  loudly  upon  Count  Hans  and 
her  son  in  her  dreams. 


DRIFTING.  51 


CHAPTER  V. 
DRIFTING. 

"Oh!   how  impatience  gains  upon  the  soul, 
When  the  long  promised  hour  of  joy  draws  near! 
How  slow  the  tardy  moments  seem  to  roll!" 

— Mrs.  Tighe. 

The  fugitives  descended  with  their  flickering  light, 
amid  the  re-echoing  thunders  of  the  torrent  that  rushed 
through  the  cave,  and  found  the  two  boats  fastened 
securely  among  sheltering  rocks. 

Conrad,  having  selected  the  larger  one,  was  in  the 
act  of  stepping  into  it,  when  a  sudden  gust  of  air  ex- 
tinguished their  lamp,  compelling  him  to  grope  in 
utter  darkness.  On  securing  a  firm  foothold  in  the 
stern  of  the  boat,  he  reached  out  his  hand  first  for  the 
Duke,  whom  he  conducted  to  a  seat  in  the  bow,  and 
then  for  Rosalie,  who,  much  frightened,  crouched 
down  at  his  feet.  Seating  himself,  he  wrapped  the 
blanket  around  the  young  girl,  and  laying  hold  of  the 
rudder,  pushed  the  boat  off. 

In  a  few  seconds  they  were  caught  by  the  sweep- 


52  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

ing  current,  and  tossed  about  in  a  fearful  manner. 
Conrad  was  obliged  to  release  the  rudder  so  as  to  hold 
on  to  both  sides  of  the  creaking  craft.  Rosalie  turning 
half  around,  clung  to  his  knee  in  terror,  while  the 
Duke,  warned  by  Conrad,  laid  down  prone  on  the  bot- 
tom of  the  boat. 

Through  the  tumult  and  appalling  darkness  the 
craft  flew  on  at  a  terrible  rate.  A  long  distance  off 
they  descried  the  opening  at  the  end  of  the  cave,  a 
small  glimmer  as  yet,  but  standing  out  brightly  amid 
the  surrounding  blackness.  Gradually  the  current 
became  less  violent.  Rosalie  released  her  hold  and 
turned  to  look  at  the  opening.  The  nearer  they  ap- 
proached the  larger  it  grew ;  and  after  a  quarter  of  an 
hour's  rapid  drifting,  the  boat  shot  through  it,  under 
a  sky  from  which  all  vestige  of  the  late  storm  had  dis- 
appeared. Conrad  suggested  that  a  clear  night  was  a 
good  omen,  the  first  words  spoken  since  they  started, 
save  his  warning  to  the  Duke.  Turning  to  the  maiden, 
he  asked,  "Thou  art  no  longer  afraid,  art  thou,  fair 
Rosalie?" 

"I  clung  to  thee  because  I  was  in  terror  in  that  fear- 
ful cave ;  but  from  that  moment  I  knew  no  fear,"  she 
answered.  Lifting  her  dark  eyes  to  his  in  the  star- 
light, she  added :  "I  feel  safe  when  near  thee." 

"I  would  shed  my  last  drop  of  blood  to  protect  thee 
from  danger!"  warmly  answered  Conrad. 


DRIFTING.  S3 

"May  the  Holy  Virgin  bless  thee,  Sir  Knight,"  re- 
plied the  girl  with  emotion. 

In  the  swollen  channel,  along  which  they  were  now 
drifting,  the  water  became  somewhat  smoother,  and 
when  they  entered  the  river  the  boat  became  quite 
steady,  though  still  carried  onward  with  considerable 
speed. 

Conrad  suggested  to  his  companions  that  they 
should  try  to  sleep.  The  girl,  seated  at  his  feet,  acting 
on  the  suggestion,  turned  and  leaned  back  against  him, 
while  he  wrapped  the  blanket  more  closely  around  her. 
As  she  slept,  her  head  gradually  sank  until  it  rested  on 
the  knee  which  previously  supported  her. 

The  Duke,  still  suffering  from  exhaustion,  stretched 
himself  in  the  bow  and  was  soon  lost  in  dreams.  Con- 
rad alone  sat  erect,  rudder  in  hand,  steadying  and 
guiding  the  drifting  craft  in  its  course  down  the  wind- 
ing river.  Feeling  chilly  from  exposure  to  the  night 
air,  he  reached  for  a  bottle  out  of  the  witch's  basket 
and  took  a  long  draught,  which  warmed  his  blood 
through  and  through.  He  watched  the  shore  on 
either  side  with  its  dark  masses  of  trees  in  the  fore- 
ground and  dimly  perceptible  hills  in  the  distance, 
yet  felt  no  inclination  to  sleep,  though  his  limbs  were 
weary ;  nor  could  he  have  even  changed  his  position 
without  running  the  risk  of  awakening  Rosalie. 

As  hour  after  hour  passed  in  this  quiet  monotony, 


Si-  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

while  his  friends  were  still  wrapped  in  deepest  slum- 
ber, he  meditated  over  his  past  and  wondered  as  to 
the  future.  The  boat  was  now  drifting  quite  gently 
though  swiftly  toward  its  destination ;  but  the  young 
pilot  little  dreamed  that  his  bark  of  life  also,  guided  by 
a  higher  power,  was  drifting  toward  its  ultimate  fate. 

Gradually  a  faint  glow  was  seen  in  the  east,  dimly 
unfolding  to  his  eyes  the  surrounding  landscape. 
Presently,  the  first  rays  of  the  peeping  sun  shot  across 
space,  masses  of  light  followed,  and  soon  the  life 
giving  orb  of  day,  in  yet  subdued  splendor,  stood 
above  the  horizon,  flooding  everything  with  roseate 
hues. 

After  watching  for  some  time  the  birth  and  gradual 
growth  of  a  glorious  day,  Conrad  looked  down  upon 
Rosalie's  face,  with  her  beautiful  hair  glowing  in  the 
sunlight,  and  he  could  not  remove  his  gaze  from  the 
enchanting  vision.  She  had  not  changed  her  position, 
still  leaning  heavily  against  him,  with  upturned  face 
and  lips  slightly  parted.  As  he  looked,  he  heard  the 
singing  of  birds,  the  sporting  of  fish,  and  the  rush  of 
startled  deer  from  their  drinking  places,  but  he  heeded 
them  not ;  his  eyes  were  only  for  Rosalie.  "A  mere 
child,"  murmured  he,  "but  she  is  passing  lovely." 

The  air  became  warmer  and  charged  with  delicious 
fragrance  of  wild  opening  buds  which  fringed  the  river 
banks.  At  last  the  young  Knight  looked  up,  drawing 


DRIFTING.  SS 

a  long  ecstatic  breath  as  he  marked  the  beautiful  land- 
scape with  its  ever  varying  changes  at  each  turn  of  the 
river.  The  sunlight  was  dancing  on  the  water,  but- . 
terflies  were  hovering  in  air,  and  the  tuneful  lark  high 
on  the  wing  greeted  the  new  born  day.  All  nature 
seemed  in  its  happiest  mood. 

Conrad  was  intoxicated  by  the  scene.  As  he  looked 
down  again  at  the  lovely  child  nestled  against  him, 
she  stirred,  disengaging  her  arms  from  the  blanket. 
He  would  have  further  relieved  her,  but  in  attempting 
to  do  so,  he  became  painfully  aware  that  the  leg  which 
for  so  many  hours  had  supported  the  sleeper,  had  in 
turn  gone  fast  asleep. 

Feeling  that  it  was  a  pity  she  should  still  be  obliv- 
ious to  all  the  beautiful  scenes  through  which  they 
were  passing,  he  thought  of  an  experiment  which 
might  arouse  the  slumberer  and  at  the  same  time  re- 
lieve him  from  his  painful  position.  Suiting  the  ac- 
tion to  the  thought,  he  bent  down  and  kissed  her. 

She  slowly  opened  her  eyes.  Placing  her  arms 
around  her  protector's  neck,  she  kissed  him  in  return 
in  so  spontaneous  and  innocent  a  manner  that  his 
heart  went  out  to  her  as  to  a  sweet  appealing  child. 
As  she  looked  up,  her  face  seemed  in  full  harmony 
with  the  beauty  of  that  spring  morning. 

By  this  time  the  Duke  had  awakened,  much  re- 
freshed by  his  sound  sleep,  and  suggested  that  some- 


56  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

thing  in  the  way  of  a  morning  meal  would  be  welcome ; 
whereupon  Conrad  and  Rosalie  unpacked  the  old 
witch's  provision  basket.  The  simple  meal  in  the 
balmy  sunlight  was  enjoyed  by  them  as  only  those  can 
enjoy,  who  have  passed  together  through  dangers  such 
as  theirs,  and  are  drifting  toward  happy  days  to  come. 

Rosalie  as  yet  hardly  realized  that  she  had  actually 
deserted  her  home  and  cast  her  lot  among  compara- 
tive strangers;  but  even  at  this  early  stage  of  their 
acquaintance  she  felt  toward  Conrad  as  though  she 
had  always  known  him.  The  novelty  and  beauty  of 
her  surroundings  filled  her  with  an  ecstasy  of  delight. 

The  sun  rose  higher  and  higher  in  the  heavens.  Soft 
winds  wafted  toward  them  from  the  shore,  which  re- 
ceded more  and  more  as  the  boat  floated  down  the 
expanding  river. 

At  last  the  Benedictine  Monastery  loomed  up  in 
the  distance.  The  Duke  gave  an  exclamation  of  de- 
light, and  directed  Conrad  to  steer  for  a  little  wharf 
at  the  foot  of  the  Monastery  grounds. 


THE  ABBOT.  57 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE  ABBOT. 

"Trust  reposed  in  noble  natures 
Obliges  them  the  more." 

— Dryden. 

An  hour  before  noon,  the  time  predicted  by  the 
Witch  of  Waldhorst,  our  friends  landed.  Crossing 
the  road  they  entered  the  gate  to  the  Monastery 
grounds,  stretching  along  the  side  of  a  hill  partly 
covered  by  vineyards.  On  its  summit,  enclosed  by  an 
inner  stone  wall,  stood  the  extensive  Monastery  build- 
ings. In  the  ascent,  half-way  to  this  renowned  Bene- 
dictine retreat,  they  rested  at  a  small  pavilion  which 
commanded  a  good  view  of  the  river  and  bordering 
country. 

The  Duke  pointed  out,  in  the  distance,  the  Convent 
of  St.  Agnes,  and  nearer  to  the  left,  the  ruins  of  a 
castle  still  formidable  in  appearance.  "Those,"  he 
said,  "are  the  remains  of  the  former  stronghold  of  the 
Baron  von  Grunau,  which  was  destroyed  fifteen  years 
ago  by  Hans  von  Waldhorst,  during  a  feud  with  its 


58  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

owner.  The  Abbot  of  the  Monastery,  a  redoubtable 
warrior  in  his  day,  and  a  still  well-preserved  and  able- 
bodied  man,  is  a  twin  brother  of  the  deceased  Baron. 
If  I  mistake  not,  he  is  coming  down  the  hill  to  meet 
us.  He  must  have  perceived  our  approach." 

Several  monks  were  seen  coming  toward  them.  As 
they  drew  near,  one  of  their  number,  a  tall,  heavily 
built  ecclesiastic,  greeted  the  Duke  with  exclamations 
of  delight,  who  presented  him  as  "His  Holiness  the 
Abbot."  Notwithstanding  his  red  face  and  nose,  there 
was  a  certain  distinguished  air  about  this  man,  while 
a  humorous  and  good-natured  expression  shone  out  of 
his  small  grey  eyes. 

After  giving  vent  to  his  joy  at  seeing  his  friend, 
Duke  Henry,  whom  every  one  far  and  near  had  given 
up  as  dead,  alive  and  well,  his  reverence  bestowed  a 
curious  glance  on  the  fugitives  whose  apparel  showed 
the  severe  usage  it  had  been  put  to.  Rosalie,  how- 
ever, in  her  hastily  donned  and  somewhat  scanty  at- 
tire, her  glossy  hair  hanging  in  dishevelled  masses 
over  her  shoulders,  looked  so  fresh  and  lovely  withal 
that  the  Abbot  became  enchanted,  and  his  eyes  dwelt 
frequently  on  her  beauty  during  the  Duke's  exciting 
account  of  their  late  adventures. 

Before  he  could  make  any  comments  on  the  narra- 
tive, Duke  Henry  requested  that  a  messenger  be  im- 
mediately sent  to  Falkenstein  Castle. 


THE  ABBOT.  59 

Accordingly,  a  lay  brother  left  the  Monastery, 
mounted  on  a  donkey  which  his  reverence  guaranteed 
would  out-travel  any  horse.  By  this  timely  messen- 
ger the  Duke  sent  divers  instructions  to  his  wife  and 
daughter,  making  known  his  desire  that  the  tourna- 
ment in  honor  of  the  Princess  should,  at  all  hazards, 
take  place  at  the  appointed  time. 

Rosalie  found  shelter  at  the  Convent  of  St.  Agnes, 
where  the  Duke's  daughter  had  been  educated.  The 
Abbot  escorted  the  young  girl,  personally  delivering 
her  into  the  hands  of  the  Abbess. 

As  it  was  contrary  to  a  law  of  the  but  recently  re- 
organized Benedictine  order  to  receive  anyone  within - 
the  Monastery,  save  in  cases  of  extreme  illness  or  dis- 
tress, two  beds  for  the  accommodation  of  Conrad  and 
the  Duke  were  ordered  to  be  placed  in  the  old  ban- 
quet hall  of  the  ruins  of  Grunau,  the  one  room  still 
habitable.  Of  this  the  Abbot  informed  his  guests, 
suggesting  that  after  refreshments  they  should  go  and 
inspect  their  quarters  for  the  night. 

The  mid-day  meal  was  served  at  the  pavilion  over- 
looking the  river.  The  Abbot  joined  them,  tasting 
several  bottles  of  the  best  wine,  "to  test  its  condition." 
Savory  dishes  from  the  Monastery  kitchen  were  set 
before  the  guests,  and  soon  their  overtaxed  energies 
were  fully  restored. 

Several  times  during  the  repast,  the  Abbot  referred 


60  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

to  "that  detestable  Count  Hans'  lastest  doings,"  and 
informed  his  friends  that  messengers  had  crossed  and 
recrossed  the  ferry  to  and  from  the  Black  Forest  and 
Waldhorst  Castle  without  bringing  any  tidings  what- 
ever of  their  master,  the  Duke.  "This  miscreant," 
continued  the  Monk,  "will  never  pause  in  his  mad 
career.  It  was  he,  Sir  Knight,  who  in  sheer  wanton- 
ness, destroyed  yonder  castle,  although  Duke  Henry 
seems  of  the  opinion  that  it  was  done  in  justifiable 
warfare." 

"I  shall  believe  anything  of  this  man  hereafter," 
put  in  Duke  Henry ;  "his  latest  outrage,  against  me 
and  this  young  Knight,  deserves  swift  retribution.  We 
hope  soon  to  deal  it  out  to  him.  Rosalie,  also  a  fugi- 
tive from  her  father's  wrath,  I  have  resolved  to  adopt, 
and  shall  take  her  with  me  to  Falkenstein." 

"She  seems  one  of  the  sweetest  of  Nature's  uncul- 
tivated flowers,"  interposed  the  Abbot. 

"As  gallant  as  ever,"  answered  the  Duke.  "If  thou, 
holy  father,  dost  wish  to  make  further  study  of  this 
interesting  blossom,  perhaps  thou  wilt  go  and  beg  the 
Abbess  to  let  her  join  us  at  our  evening  meal." 

"With  thy  leave,  holy  father,"  remarked  Conrad, 
"I  will  accompany  thee." 

The  smiling  recluse  gave  a  gracious  assent  to  his 
newly  made  friend's  request,  saying:  "A  handsome 
young  Knight's  company  will  prove  more  acceptable 


THE  ABBOT.  61 

to  this  sweet  young  maiden  than  that  of  an  ugly  old 
Monk  like  myself." 

This  man,  who  plays  an  important  part  in  our  story, 
in  the  time  of  his  early  manhood,  had  been  a  famous 
courtier  and  gallant  until  his  flitting  affections  became 
fixed  upon  one  object,  a  noble  lady,  whose  image  he 
yet  cherished  in  fondest  love ;  but  alas !  she  had  been 
snatched  from  him  by  the  redoubtable  Count  Hans, 
who  made  her  his  wife. 

Immediately  after  their  marriage,  the  disappointed 
lover  renounced  the  world,  entered  the  Benedictine 
Order  and  rose  rapidly  to  the  position  he  then  occu- 
pied in  one  of  the  largest  monasteries  in  Germany,  con- 
nected with  the  Convent  of  St.  Agnes.  But  the  Abbot 
had  never  quite  forgiven  Hans  von  Waldhorst. 

During  the  afternoon  Conrad  reminded  his  Rever- 
ence of  the  proposed  visit  to  the  ruins  of  Grnnau. 
When  they  arrived  at  the  dilapidated  stronghold  they 

• 

found  the  banquet  room  a  gloomy  looking  place. 
High  backed  chairs,  skeleton  heads  of  deer,  and  two 
wooden  effigies,  covered  with  suits  of  mail,  looked 
spectral  in  the  dim  light  which  struggled  through  the 
begrimed  casements. 

On  one  of  the  panels  of  the  wall,  they  noticed  a  mis- 
erable painting  of  an  old  knight  in  armor,  bearing 
some  resemblance  in  its  crude  features  to  the  Abbot, 
and  looking  even  more  disagreeably  ghostlike  than  its 


62  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

wooden  companions.  The  inspection  of  the  couches, 
however,  proved  them  to  be  comfortable,  and  gave 
promise  of  a  good  night's  rest. 

Duke  Henry  drew  the  attention  of  the  Abbot  to  the 
likeness  existing  between  him  and  the  picture  on  the 
wall. 

"That  abominable  caricature,"  his  reverence  said, 
"is  meant  to  be  the  portrait  of  my  twin  brother,  the 
former  Lord  of  Grunau,  who,  as  you  know,  fell  defend- 
ing his  castle.  The  picture  was  painted  partly  from 
memory  and  partly  from  my  own  ugly  face,  after  his 
death.  We  were  much  alike  in  our  younger  days,  and 
the  Italian  Monk  who  produced  this  thought  that  I 
might  answer  for  his  model.  The  poor  fellow  has  since 
died,  whether  from  shame  at  having  executed  so  abom- 
inable a  piece  of  work  or  for  want  of  anything  to  live 
for,  I  know  not.  I  am  determined  to  have  the  panel 
removed,  however,  and  to  use  it  for  firewood  some 
day,  although  it  is  the  only  existing  likeness  of  my 
brother." 

"I  think,"  said  the  Duke,  smiling,  "that  face  much 
uglier  than  yours,  and  your  brother,  the  Baron,  was 
a  fine  looking  man." 

"Yes,  although  like  me,  better  looking  than  I,"  re- 
plied the  Abbot  with  a  humorous  twinkle  in  his  eyes ; 
"but  when  we  were  young  together,  while  he  looked  at 


THE  ABBOT.  63 

the  fair  dames  I  talked  to  them,  and  many  a  time  did 
I  win  them  away  from  him." 

"I  remember  that  time  well,"  said  Duke  Henry, 
"and  I  could  tell  thee,  Sir  Knight,  many  stories  about 
those  twins.  My  reverend  friend  here  was  a  formida- 
ble rival  of  his  brother  until  he  fell  in  love  with  the 
beautiful  girl  who  was  carried  off  before  his  eyes  by 
our  common  enemy,  Hans  von  Waldhorst.  Up  to 
that  time,  he  had  eyes  and  words  only  for  her.  It  was 
a  sad  ending  to  your  love  dreams,  holy  father." 

"I  have  not  forgotten  it,  my  lord,"  replied  the  Ben- 
edictine, "but  I  have  prayed  that  I  might  forgive  the 
man.  He  has,  however,  added  a  chapter  of  high- 
handed outrages  so  much  more  cruel  and  wicked  than 
that  which  blighted  my  life,  that  I  cannot  feel  the 
charity  toward  him  which  I  ought,  in  deep  humility, 
to  exercise  toward  all  men." 

Meanwhile  Rosalie  had  been  received  most  kindly 
by  the  Abbess  at  the  Convent,  and  was  so  charmed  by 
everything  there,  that,  after  thinking  long  and  deeply 
over  the  ordeals  in  store  for  her  in  accompanying  the 
noble  Duke  and  her  newly  found  friend,  Conrad,  to 
Falkenstein,  she  had  resolved  to  ask  the  Duke's  and 
the  Abbess'  consent  to  enter  the  Convent  as  a  pupil. 
When  Conrad  called  for  her  without  the  Abbot,  the 
lady  superior  of  the  Convent  allowed  Rosalie  to  accom- 


64  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

pany  him,  and  during  their  walk  back  she  informed 
him  of  her  resolution. 

"At  the  end  of  a  year,  Sir  Knight,"  she  said,  "I 
shall  be  better  fitted  to  take  the  place  of  a  daughter  to 
the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Falkenstein,  should  they 
stiil  wish  to  adopt  me.  I  should  now  feel  strange,  in- 
deed, and  ashamed  to  meet  the  Princess,  for  I  know 
but  little  of  courtly  ways." 

"Rosalie!"  replied  our  hero,  who  had  not  realized 
until  then  what  a  wrench  it  would  be  to  part  from  this 
fair  child,  "thou  little  knowest  how  it  grieveth  me  to 
hear  of  this  decision.  We  have  been  thrown  together 
by  fate,  and  it  seemeth  to  me  that  we  should  not  be 
separated  at  a  time  like  this.  Did  I  not  promise  to 
remain  near  thee  ?" 

"Thou  didst,"  replied  the  girl,  turning  her  soft, 
moist  eyes  up  to  his ;  "and  I  would  love  to  be  with  thee 
always ;  but,"  she  added  in  a  trembling  voice,  "it  will 
be  best  that  I  remain  here.  Thou  art  going  to  enlist 
in  the  tournament  in  honor  of  the  Princess  Ursula, 
who,  they  say,  is  not  only  a  most  spirited  lady,  but 
more  beautiful  than  words  can  express  and  as  tender 
hearted  as  she  is  bewitching.  If  thou  art  victorious 
in  the  tilts,  thou  wilt  have  gained  the  right  to  her  hand, 
and  in  that  case,  what  will  I,  an  ignorant  little  girl,  be 
to  thee?" 

"Rosalie!  dear  Rosalie!  do  not  speak  thus,"  pro- 


THE  ABBOT.  65 

tested  Conrad.  "It  doth  not  follow  that  I  shall  ask  the 
Princess  for  her  hand,  even  should  I  gain  the  right, 
which  I  doubt,  or  that,  should  I  ask  her  she  would 
grant  it.  But  whatever  may  chance,  I  will  never  for- 
get thee." 

"What  thou  sayest,"  replied  the  girl,  "makes  me 
happy.  Yet  I  cannot  believe  that  I  should  be  happy 
at  Falkenstein;  certainly  not  if — "  here  she  stopped. 
Conrad  observed  the  quivering  lip,  then,  after  watch- 
ing her  face  for  a  few  moments,  said :  "It  shall  be  as 
thou  wfehest,  Rosalie.  Perhaps  it  will  be  best  for  thee 
to  remain  at  the  Convent,  for  the  present,  to  study.  I 
will  call  for  thee  at  the  end  of  a  year.  And,"  he  added 
after  another  pause,  during  which  the  girl  watched  his 
face  eagerly,  "I  have  a  firm  belief  that  thy  life  and  mine 
are  to  be  woven  together  in  the  future.  Whatever 
we  may  go  through  for  a  time  while  separated,  I  will 
surely  return  to  thee." 

He  said  this  solemnly,  a  dim  unaccountable  presenti- 
ment of  future  events  flashing  the  while  across  his 
mind.  "My  heart  is  thine  already  and  will  be  always," 
simply  replied  Rosalie.  Conrad,  much  moved,  with 
great  gallantry  impressed  a  kiss  on  the  fair  forehead 
of  his  young  companion.  They  continued  their  way  to 
the  pavilion  in  silence,  sitting  down,  still  hand  in  hand, 
to  await  the  Duke's  arrival. 

The  sun  hung  low  in  the  horizon.    It  was  the  hour 


66  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

when  lovers  need  no  language  to  commune  with  each 
other.  As  yet  Conrad's  feelings  for  Rosalie  were  un- 
defined, having  been  enlisted  so  suddenly  during  their 
romantic  adventure.  Much  more  deeply  stirred  was 
the  heart  of  the  young  girl.  All  that  was  said  and  felt 
in  that  hour  was  long  remembered  by  her.  The  young 
Knight  forgot  it  much  sooner,  among  new  and  varied 
scenes  of  love  and  triumph. 

During  the  repast  which  followed,  Duke  Henry 
gave  his  approval  to  Rosalie's  entrance  into  the  con- 
vent as  one  of  its  pupils.  He  wrote  certain  directions 
to  the  Abbess,  on  parchment,  which  he  requested  the 
Abbot  to  deliver  the  following  day.  The  good  pre- 
late promised  to  do  his  friend's  bidding  and,  moreover, 
to  make  inquiry  from  time  to  time  as  to  Rosalie's  wel- 
fare. "The  daughter  of  my  worst  enemy,"  he  mused ; 
"and  yet  so  good  and  lovely — she  continually  reminds 
me  of  what  her  mother  was  when  I  first  knew  her." 

When  the  time  came  for  Rosalie  to  bid  them  fare- 
well and  return,  Conrad  was  again  allowed  to  accom- 
pany her  back  to  the  convent.  Darkness  had  set  in 
when  they  reached  the  river  bank.  The  air  from  over 
the  distant  hills  stole  whispering  through  the  trees. 
It  was  a  mysterious  and  solemn  hour  to  the  two  young 
beings  whom  fate  had  thus  brought  together.  For 
some  time  neither  spoke ;  but  as  they  neared  the  con- 
vent, Rosalie  looked  up,  saying,  in  a  subdued  voice, 


THE  ABBOT.  67 

— "A  week  before  the  end  of  my  year's  instruction,  I 
shall  have  to  decide  whether  I  shall  rejoin  the  world  or 
remain  within  the  convent  walls  forever."  Conrad 
again  faithfully  promised  to  call  for  her  before  that 
time  "come  what  might." 

"God  only  knows,"  the  girl  replied,  "whether  thou 
wilt  be  able  to  come  for  me  or  not.  If  thou  dost  come, 
I  will  go  with  thee  wherever  thou  wilt.  If  not,  I  will 
remain  at  the  convent  and  take  the  veil."  She  ceased 
and  the  firm  pressure  of  her  lip  told  Conrad  that  she 
would  keep  the  resolve  which  her  young  heart  had 
prompted  her  to  make. 

They  had  reached  the  garden  gate,  through  which 
part  of  the  convent  buildings  were  visible.  Rosalie 
pulled  the  bell,  faced  her  companion  suddenly,  and 
throwing  her  arms  around  his  neck,  kissed  him  fare- 
well. Conrad  pressed  the  trembling  girl  to  his  heart. 
Not  another  word  was  spoken.  A  nun  appeared  at 
the  gate.  Rosalie  entered  and  was  lost  to  view. 

Conrad  turned  back  to  the  Monastery,  meditating 
deeply.  Strange  indeed  was  that  fate  which  had 
thrown  in  his  path  the  daughter  of  the  man  he  had 
sworn  to  destroy,  appealing  to  him  for  protection, 
giving  him  her  young  heart  unrestrainedly  and  awak- 
ening feelings  in  his  own,  which  he  knew,  whatever 
their  nature,  would  be  lasting. 

Duke  Henry,  seeing  Conrad  approach,  met  him  and 


68  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

they  proceeded  without  delay  to  the  ruins  of  Grunau. 
The  Abbot  followed,  to  make  sure  that  nothing  had 
been  neglected  for  their  comfort  before  he  bade  them 
"good-night." 

A  small  oil-lamp,  by  whose  dim  light  the  banquet 
hall  looked  ghostly  enough,  enabled  them  without 
jostling  each  other  to  undress  and  creep  into  bed;  a 
few  moments  later  they  were  both  asleep. 

What  was  Rosalie  doing  at  that  time?  The  sweet 
child  was  kneeling  at  the  bedside  in  her  little  cham- 
ber, praying  to  the  Holy  Virgin  that  God  might  keep 
Conrad  from  all  harm,  and  in  His  own  good  time  bring 
him  back  to  her. 


BARON  VON  GRUNAU'S  GHOST.  69 


CHAPTER  VII. 
BARON  VON  GRUNAU'S  GHOST. 

"A  horrid  spectre  rises  to  my  sight; 

Close  by  my  side,  and  plain,  and  palpable, 
In  all  good  seeming  and  close  circumstance, 

As  man  meets  man." 

— Baillis'  Ethewald. 

Our  two  friends  had  slept  many  hours  without  even 
changing  their  positions,  when  Conrad,  half  conscious 
of  someone  walking  about  the  room,  awoke,  just  as 
the  Monastery  bell  struck  the  hour  of  midnight.  At 
the  same  time  a  peculiar  smell  pervaded  his  nostrils. 

He  sat  up  in  bed,  opening  his  eyes  wide.  By  a 
strong  light  diffused  through  a  vaporous  atmosphere, 
every  object  in  the  room  seemed  to  become  clearly 
visible.  As  he  looked  up  he  was  somewhat  astonished 
to  perceive  that  the  eyes  of  the  picture  of  the  Knight 
in  armor  were  shining  and  winking  at  him.  He  was 
further  startled  to  see  the  two  mail-clad  wooden  fig- 
ures walking  away  from  their  central  positions  in  front 
of  the  curtain,  and  stopping  like  sentinels  at  each  side. 
Suddenly  the  curtain  separated  and,  to  Conrad's  dis- 


70  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

may,  the  ghost  of  the  master  of  Grunau,  the  very  coun- 
terpart of  the  picture  overhead,  with  the  exception  of 
a  greater  rotundity  of  figure,  stood  before  him.  It  was 
assuredly  a  genuine  spectre,  for  through  it  the  tapestry 
behind  was  clearly  visible. 

It  opened  its  ugly  mouth,  raised  its  hand  as  in  the 
picture,  and  in  a  hollow  voice  spoke  these  words: 
"Conrad  von  Rheinstein,  beware !  I  have  thee  in  my 
power.  I  can  send  thee  and  thy  snoring  friend  at  thy 
side  to  the  unhappy  land  of  shadows  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye — even  of  those  eyes  in  my  abominable  por- 
trait yonder." 

Conrad,  fully  believing  the  apparition  to  be  super- 
natural, felt  his  heart  throb  violently ;  but  as  he  listened 
to  what  could  not  fail  to  strike  him  as  ludicrous  talk 
from  a  being  of  another  world  his  courage  gradually 
returned,  although  the  eyes  of  that  picture  of  the 
Baron  von  Grunau  were  certainly  twinkling  and  wink- 
ing at  him.  "I  will  spare  thee  and  thy  friend,"  re- 
sumed the  ghost,  in  its  sepulchral  voice,  "and  even 
will  serve  thee,  if  thou  wilt  promise  to  do  what  I  re- 
quire of  thee." 

"Who  art  thou  ?"  inquired  the  young  Knight,  gain- 
ing courage  at  the  sound  of  his  own  voice ;  "and  what 
dost  thou  want  of  me,  thou  old  fossil  of  a  ghost  ?" 

"I  am  the  Baron  von  Grunau,  or  rather,  his  ghost," 
answered  the  spectre,  hemming  and  coughing,  as 


BARON  VON  GRUNAU'S  GHOST.  71 

though  provoked  at  our  hero's  undaunted  manner, 
which  to  Conrad  again  seemed  unghostlike.  "I  was 
killed,"  continued  the  apparition,  "together  with  my 
wife  and  all  my  attendants,  by  that  Robber- Knight 
Hans  von  Waldhorst,  who  wantonly  attacked  and  de- 
stroyed my  castle.  He  abducted  my  two-year-old 
daughter  and  retains  her  in  his  den  of  iniquity  to  this 
day.  I  want  revenge.  Fate  has  so  willed  it  that  I  can 
ask  it  of  thee,  Conrad  von  Rheinstein.  That  bold  man 
must  be  made  to  suffer !  he  must  die !  aye,  die  by  thy 
hand,  thou  unhappy  mortal!  so  that  my  shade  may 
rest  in  peace,  instead  of  walking  about  these  deserted 
ruins,  stumbling  over  old  furniture  and  knocking  its 
shins  against  the  dilapidated  battlements.  I  want 
peace  for  the  rest  of  my  ghostly  existence.  I  am  but 
a  shadow  of  my  former  self — a  shadow  worn  to  a 
thinner  shade;  but  I  was  not  always  so  miserable  a 
specimen.  Look  at  that  picture  of  the  handsome 
young  knight  on  thy  right!  It  is  I,  as  I  was  thirty 
years  ago."  Conrad  looked  up  and  saw  a  portrait 
which  had  not  been  there  before,  better  painted  than 
the  other,  but  whose  eyes  also  were  most  certainly 
winking  at  him. 

"I  see,"  said  he,  in  a  bantering  tone ;  "but  I  do  not 
think  this  picture  resembles  thee  as  does  thy  other 
portrait,  save  perhaps  about  the  eyes,  which  continue 
to  keep  up  their  everlasting  winking." 


72  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

The  ghost,  evidently  out  of  temper  with  our 
knight,  coughed  much  louder  than  before;  and  in  a 
voice  deeper  and  gruffer,  said,  "I  was  young  and  slen- 
der then,  nor  did  I  change  greatly  in  comparison  un- 
til I  was  murdered.  Since  that  time,  ghost  though  I 
am,  I  have  grown  old,  fat,  flabby  and  ugly  very  fast, 
but  unless  my  death  is  avenged  I  shall  soon  become  as 
thou  wert  pleased  to  call  me,  an  old  fossil,  indeed,  and 
an  eyesore  to  all  respectable  ghosts.  As  soon,  how- 
ever, as  thou  takest  an  oath  to  avenge  my  death,  I 
shall  disappear  with  that  other  hideous  effigy  yonder, 
which  is  my  portrait  as  a  ghost,  painted  by  a  miserable 
ghost  of  an  artist.  Then  both  the  artist  and  I  shall  be 
at  peace.  But  shouldst  thou  fail  to  take  or  to  keep  the 
oath,  and  if  at  the  end  of  a  year  Count  Hans  should 
yet  live,  then  shall  my  spirit  continue  to  haunt  thee, 
and  I  shall  reappear  upon  this  very  scene,  together 
with  a  far  more  dreadful  portrait  of  myself;  and  that 
same  pitiable  shadow  of  the  miserable  Monk  of  an 
artist,  after  painting  this  abomination  also,  will  again 
commit  suicide,  even  in  despair  as  he  did  at  having  pro- 
duced that  first  one.  Know  thou,  Conrad  von  Rhein- 
stein,  that  when  a  ghost  commits  suicide  it  is  the  most 
terrible  thing  that  can  happen  in  the  world  of  shadows 
— one  from  which  no  end  of  complications  may  arise, 
all  which  will  react  on  thee  if  thou  failest  me !" 

"I  believe  thee,  old  fossil."     Conrad,  strongly  in- 


BARON  VON  GRUNAU'S  GHOST.  73 

clined  to  laugh  outright,  now  interposed  boldly:  "A 
ghost  of  a  ghost  of  a  miserable  artist  must  indeed  be  a 
bad  specimen." 

"Very  well,  then,"  roared  the  corpulent,  though 
transparent  shade  of  von  Grunau,  "if  thou  believest 
it  swear  to  avenge  my  cruel  fate !  Swear  that 
before  another  year  shall  have  made  itself  felt  in  my 
fleshless  bones,  thou  wilt  kill  him ;  swear !" 

And  "Swear!"  "Swear!"  was  repeated  by  the  two 
wooden  sentinels  as  well  as  the  portrait  on  the  wall. 
Conrad  noticed  that  they  still  glared  and  winked  at 
him. 

"Swear,  Conrad  von  Rheinstein,"  repeated  the  ghost 
once  more,  and  in  so  hollow  a  voice  that  it  seemed 
to  come  from  its  transparent  boots  of  mail,  and 
"Swear!"  "Swear!"  was  repeated  from  all  sides  by 
ghostly  voices. 

"I  swear,"  replied  our  hero,  involuntarily,  in  a  loud 
voice,  raising  his  right  hand  in  imitation  of  the  spectre. 

Ere  he  had  realized  what  he  had  done,  the  ghostly 
image  of  the  Baron  von  Grunau  had  vanished,  the  cur- 
tain had  closed  and  the  suits  of  mail  were  walking  back 
to  their  places,  and  Conrad,  looking  up,  saw  that  the 
Baron's  portrait  in  armor  had  disappeared ;  while  that 
of  the  young  knight,  which  had  only  recently  made 
its  appearance  as  though  by  magic,  remained,  accord- 
ing to  the  spectre's  promise.  The  light  faded  away 


74  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

gradually.  All  at  once  a  most  diabolical  laughter  from 
all  around  fell  upon  his  ear,  which  made  him  shudder. 
Presently  he  fancied  he  heard  retreating  footsteps.  As 
they  died  away,  the  laughter  also  ceased.  Finally  all 
was  still,  not  a  sound,  save  the  slight  snoring  of  his 
lordship,  the  Duke,  who  had  slept  soundly  through- 
out this  ghostly  visitation. 

Conrad's  shudders  ceased.  He  lay  back  on  his  pil- 
low, wondering  whether  or  not  all  had  been  a  dream. 
The  peculiar  vapor,  which  still  pervaded  the  room,  as- 
sured him,  however,  that  something  actual  had  oc- 
curred, but  what  it  all  portended  he  knew  not.  Of  one 
thing  only  he  was  certain ;  he  had  taken  a  solemn  oath 
that  within  a  year  Hans  von  Waldhorst  should  die 
by  his  hand — Count  Hans,  whose  daughter  had  but 
lately  saved  him  from  danger,  and  given  him  her  inno- 
cent heart. 

"What  will  be  the  end  of  all  this?"  he  again  asked 
himself.  Pondering  over  this  question,  he  fell  asleep, 
and  did  not  awake  until  a  late  hour  of  the  morning. 


THE  FALCON'S  ROCK.  75 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  FALCON'S  ROCK. 

"There  is  a  wakening  on  the  mighty  hills, 
A  kindling  with  the  spirit  of  the  morn!" 

— Mrs.  Hemans. 

The  Falcon's  Rock,  so-called,  most  appropriately, 
by  Duke  Henry's  warlike  and  aggressive  ancestors, 
was  an  extensive,  imposing  and  strongly  fortified 
structure,  situated  on  a  broad,  rocky  promontory  which 
rose  precipitously  amidst  a  fertile,  far  extending  val- 
ley. 

The  castle  and  fortress  of  Falkenstein  formed  one 
of  the  greatest  strongholds  in  Germany,  at  the  time. 
The  approach,  through  a  lower  well-fortified  gate,  led 
up  the  steep  ascent  across  a  chasm  to  the  drawbridge, 
which  on  the  summit  of  the  rock,  spanning  the  same 
cleft,  constituted  the  only  access  to  the  main  battle- 
ments and  buildings.  These  were  of  vast  extent,  af- 
fording ample  accommodations  for  the  Duke's  numer- 
ous followers,  retainers  and  guests.  Fronting  the 
approach,  outside  of  its  main  buildings  and  extending 


76  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

their  entire  length,  was  the  arena  for  tournaments, 
outdoor  festivities,  and  for  exercising  the  horses.  This 
broad,  well-fortified  plateau  afforded  an  excellent  view 
of  the  landscape.  Through  the  fascinating  scene  a 
narrow  river  wound  its  way  midst  rich  pastures  and 
thriving  villages,  all  belonging  to  the  Principality  of 
Falkenstein,  a  favored  land  in  the  midst  of  which  the 
Goddess  of  Plenty  sat  enthroned. 

Ursula,  the  Princess  of  Falkenstein,  the  Duke's  only 
daughter,  was  more  highly  cultivated  than  usual  in 
those  days,  even  for  a  person  of  her  rank.  She  lent  a 
luster  to  all  that  region  by  her  beauty  and  brilliant 
attainments,  while  her  goodness  made  itself  felt  to  the 
remotest  part  of  the  domain.  Not  only  were  her  face 
and  figure  of  exceeding  beauty,  and  her  heart  brave 
and  unflinching  in  time  of  danger ;  she  was  also  the  em- 
bodiment of  tenderness  and  sympathy,  charity  found 
in  her  a  perfect  exponent  of  its  divine  nature.  To  see 
her  was  to  adore ;  to  know  her  was  to  love.  Though 
much  above  the  average  height,  the  matchless  sym- 
metry of  her  supple  figure  rendered  it  hardly  percepti- 
ble, save  when  closely  comparing  her  with  others  of 
her  sex.  The  grace  and  poetry  of  her  motion  struck 
the  eye  of  the  beholder,  not  only  while  noting  her  dar- 
ing feats  of  horsemanship,  but  at  all  times.  Her  lux- 
uriant auburn  hair,  which  she  wore  partly  coiled  at  the 
back  of  her  head,  allowing  its  ends  to  hang  down  be- 


THE  FALCON'S  ROCK.  77 

low  the  waist,  was  deeply  tinged  with  gold.  Her  won- 
derful face,  almost  regular  in  repose,  was  fascinatingly 
irregular  when  animated ;  and  in  suppressing  a  smile, 
she  drew  down  the  point  of  Her  slightly  tip-tilted  nose 
with  her  short  upper  lip,  giving  that  interesting  fea- 
ture, for  the  moment,  the  appearance  of  being  arched. 
Of  her  beautiful  dark  grey  eyes,  it  is  enough  to  say 
that  they  reflected  the  pure  soul  within. 

Her  mother  had  been  bred  at  the  Court  of  the  Em- 
press. Though  an  invalid  ever  after  the  birth  of  her 
only  child,  she  had  done  much  at  Falkenstein  Castle 
to  instill  into  those  dwelling  there  the  same  refinement 
of  manner  to  which  she  had  been  accustomed,  and  to 
cultivate  the  taste  of  her  daughter,  who  was  an  apt 
scholar,  always  amenable  to  her  mother's  slightest 
wishes. 

Being  possessed  of  considerable  administrative  abil- 
ity, Ursula  had  taken  personal  command  of  the  for- 
tress during  her  father's  protracted  absence,  and  had 
sent  out  various  expeditions  in  search  of  him.  As  each 
returned  without  any  tidings  of  the  Duke,  her  anxiety 
became  very  great.  When  her  last  search  proved  un- 
successful, she  announced  to  the  already  numerous 
guests  that  the  festivities  would  have  to  be  postponed. 
The  many  knights  and  dames  who  had  assembled  to 
participate  in  these  were  reluctantly  preparing  to  de- 
part, when  the  lay  brother  who  had  been  despatched 


78  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

by  the  Abbot,  arrived  with  the  tidings  of  the  Duke's 
safety.  At  once  a  new  life  and  bustle  awakened  in  the 
castle.  Radiant  with  happiness,  Ursula  became  the 
inspiring  hostess  once  more,  and  the  guests  returned 
to  their  enjoyments  and  luxurious  comforts.  With- 
out delay,  Ursula  despatched  a  detachment  of  trusty 
lances  to  the  Monastery  to  escort  her  father  back  to 
Falkenstein. 

On  the  morning  after  the  eventful  night  spent  in  the 
banquet  hall  of  the  ruins  of  Grunau,  the  Duke  was  the 
first  to  awake,  feeling  much  refreshed.  Looking  out 
of  the  window  he  perceived  a  small  cavalcade  ap- 
proaching, which  he  recognized  to  his  great  joy  as  his 
own  followers.  He  at  once  woke  his  young  friend  to 
impart  the  good  news. 

Conrad  rubbed  his  eyes  and  instinctively  looked  for 
the  portrait  overhead.  It  was  gone;  but  on  the  op- 
posite panel,  where  nothing  had  been  visible  the  day 
before,  was  the  newly  painted  picture  of  a  young 
knight. 

He  felt  sure  that  what  he  had  seen  in  the  night  was 
not  a  dream,  but  a  vision  which  he  could  not  explain, 
though  he  said  nothing  of  it  to  the  Duke,  and  forgot 
all  about  it  during  the  excitement  of  the  days  follow- 
ing. 

The  armed  attendants  were  at  the  gate.  They 
brought  horses  and  suits  of  mail  for  the  Duke  and 


Bending  slightly  forward  in  a  listening  attitude. 


THE  FALCON'S  ROCK.  79 

Conrad,  as  well  as  suitable  raiment  and  a  horse  for 
Rosalie. 

Princess  Ursula,  in  her  wild  delight  at  the  happy 
state  of  affairs,  sent  word  that  everything  would  be 
ready  for  the  tournaments  on  the  appointed  day,  and 
that  she  would  expect  her  father  with  his  two  guests 
that  very  night. 

In  half  an  hour  the  Duke  and  Conrad  dressed, 
breakfasted  and  were  in  the  saddle,  the  Abbot  being 
present  to  see  them  depart.  To  him  the  Duke  en- 
trusted the  garments  to  be  left  at  the  convent  for 
Rosalie's  future  use. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  on  which  Duke  Henry 
and  Conrad  set  forth  from  the  Benedictine  Monastery, 
Ursula  rode  forth  from  Falkenstein  to  meet  them. 
On  her  arrival,  at  nightfall,  at  an  adjacent  vil- 
lage, she  halted.  Bending  slightly  forward  in  a  lis- 
tening attitude,  she  sat  on  her  steed,  her  noble  face 
and  figure  being  outlined  against  the  dark  back- 
ground by  the  flickering  light  from  a  neighboring  inn. 
Thus  she  waited,  eagerly  intent  on  catching  the  first 
sound  of  approaching  horses'  feet.  A  group  of  peas- 
ants drew  near  to  learn  the  cause  of  her  presence  at 
that  hour.  Reports  of  their  beloved  master's  safety  had 
already  reached  them.  One,  a  stalwart  fellow,  drew 
near  the  fair  rider,  cap  in  hand.  Making  a  low  obei- 


80          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

sance,  he  enquired  if  her  Highness  had  received  any 
additional  information  concerning  her  father. 

"I  am  here  to  meet  him  this  very  night,  my  good 
man,"  answered  the  Princess;  "he  may  arrive  at  any 
moment." 

"Hurrah!"  cried  he  to  his  comrades,  "the  Duke  is 
coming !"  Lusty  cheers  for  their  master  and  his  daugh- 
ter went  up  from  the  bystanders.  There  were  few 
among  them  who  had  not  received  some  kindness  at 
Ursula's  hands ;  and  the  Duke  himself  was  personally 
known  and  loved  by  most  of  his  dependents.  The 
news  of  his  expected  arrival  spread  like  wild-fire 
throughout  the  little  hamlet.  Lights  appeared  in  the 
windows,  and  notwithstanding  the  lateness  of  the  hour, 
men,  women  and  children  arrayed  themselves  in  holi- 
day attire,  standing  in  their  doorways  ready  to  wel- 
come back  their  beloved  ruler. 

The  sound  of  hoofs  upon  the  village  pavement  be- 
came audible ;  first  faintly,  then  more  distinctly.  The 
lungs  of  young  and  old  were  taxed  to  the  utmost.  The 
Duke  checked  his  horse  in  the  midst  of  his  subjects, 
with  Conrad  at  his  heels,  an  interested  spectator  of  the 
scene.  Some  of  the  villagers  pressed  forward  and 
grasped  the  Duke's  hand  to  kiss  it.  One  woman,  a 
tall,  buxom  young  mother,  held  her  babe  aloft  that  it 
might  see  its  benefactor's  face.  He  caught  sight  of  her, 
and  reaching  out  his  hand  for  the  babe,  kissed  it  and 


THE  FALCON'S  ROCK.  81 

returned  it  to  its  proud  mother.  The  shout  that  went 
up  from  the  delighted  people  after  this  spontaneous 
act  was  deafening. 

With  her  heart  beating  tumultuously,  Ursula  rode 
forward  to  meet  her  father,  the  peasantry  making  way 
for  her.  The  Duke  dismounted.  She  did  likewise, 
assisted  by  Conrad,  who  had  suddenly  appeared  at  her 
side.  A  moment  later  father  and  daughter  were  in 
each  others'  arms. 

Conrad  remained  standing  near.  He  had  held  the 
Princess'  hand.  He  had  seen  her  face  for  a  moment, 
as  she  sprang  lightly  from  the  saddle,  though  in  so 
faint  a  light  that  he  could  form  but  little  idea  of  her 
beauty ;  but  the  rich  accents  of  the  voice  in  which  she 
thanked  him  had  sent  a  thrill  to  his  heart.  Ursula, 
in  accepting  his  proffered  assistance  in  dismounting, 
had  conferred  upon  the  young  stranger  what,  in  those 
days  of  knighthood,  was  considered  a  great  honor; 
and  when  she  permitted  him  to  assist  her  to  remount, 
he  felt  elated  at  the  distinction  and  sprang  to  the  back 
of  his  own  horse  in  a  proud  and  happy  mood. 

The  Duke  and  Ursula  continued  their  way,  in  ad- 
vance of  the  rest,  up  the  steep  ascent  to  the  castle,  dis- 
coursing of  the  late  adventures.  Her  heart  went  out 
with  gratitude  and  sympathy  to  Conrad.  When  she 
drew  rein  in  the  courtyard  of  Falkenstein,  finding  him 
again  at  her  side  eager  to  assist  her  in  alighting,  she 


82  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

thanked  him  in  a  voice  full  of  emotion  for  all  he  had 
done  for  her  father.  He  had  not  as  yet  seen  her  fea- 
tures distinctly.  When  they  entered  the  brightly  il- 
luminated hall,  however,  the  young  knight  was  dazzled 
by  the  irresistible  charm  of  her  beauty,  which  now,  for 
the  first  time,  beamed  upon  him. 

The  Duchess  received  him  with  grateful  tears  in  her 
eyes.  Her  fair  face,  and  the  gentleness  and  refinement 
of  her  manners,  greatly  impressed  him ;  and  he  bowed 
on  his  knee  before  her,  and  raised  her  thin,  white  hand 
to  his  lips. 

A  goodly  company  of  gallant  knights,  minstrels, 
squires  and  their  dames,  gathered  around  the  festive 
board  in  the  superb  banquet  hall.  They  regarded  the 
newcomer,  Conrad  von  Rheinstein,  with  mingled 
feelings  of  curiosity,  admiration  and  envy.  Among 
them,  a  gigantic  knight,  of  forbidding  countenance 
and  awkward  bearing — no  other,  as  Conrad  learned 
afterward,  than  the  stupid  but  powerful  Prince  Steffel, 
Landgraf  of  Pomerania,  sat  with  frowning  brow,  which 
impressed  Conrad  most  unfavorably.  This  huge 
Pomeranian  boor  had  been  victorious  in  the  last  two 
tournaments  held  in  honor  of  the  eighteenth  and  nine- 
teenth birthdays  of  the  Princess.  On  each  occasion 
he  had  asked  Ursula  for  her  hand,  and  had  been  re- 
pulsed. He  had  come  to  fight  for  her  for  the  third 
time,  and  if  again  victorious,  by  the  rules  of  knight- 


THE  FALCON'S  ROCK.  83 

hood,  he  would  acquire  the  right  to  demand  of  the 
Duke  the  much  coveted  prize.  In  such  an  event,  a  re- 
fusal by  Duke  Henry  would  undoubtedly  precipitate 
hostilities  between  him  and  the  powerful  Pomeranian. 

Ursula  knew  all  this,  and  her  heart  misgave  her  as 
she  thought  of  the  beautiful  and  prosperous  Principal- 
ity of  Falkenstein  being  devastated  by  war,  and  the 
unequal  chances  of  her  father  in  a  struggle  with  that 
formidable  adversary. 

Since  seeing  Conrad,  the  very  flower  of  ideal  knight- 
hood, a  faint  hope  had  arisen  in  her  heart  that  possibly 
he  might  prove  her  deliverer  from  the  threatened  ca- 
lamity by  vanquishing  this  hitherto  victorious  but 
most  unwelcome  aspirant  to  her  favor. 

Conrad  was  seated  at  one  end  of  the  table,  on  the 
left  of  the  Duchess,  and  next  to  the  Princess.  On 
the  other  side  of  the  noble  invalid,  directly  opposite  to 
Conrad  and  Ursula,  sat  Prince  Steffel,  alone  in  his 
sullenness,  but  on  account  of  his  great  size  taking 
up  room  for  two.  Bernard  von  Wolfram,  the  Min- 
strel, had  his  seat  on  the  other  side  of  the  Princess, 
the  Queen  of  his  songs,  and  inspiration  of  all  his  deeds 
of  valor.  Being  a  Knight  of  the  Holy  Cross,  he  had 
met  Conrad  in  the  Holy  Land,  and  had  returned  but 
a  short  time  before  him.  They  now  greeted  one  an- 
other as  old  friends. 

Ursula  had  known  Wolfram  from  early  childhood, 


84  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

and  always  looked  upon  him  as  her  faithful  admirer 
and  good  knight,  and  since  his  late  return,  as  her  pos- 
sible champion  against  the  great  Pomeranian  Prince. 

Wolfram,  however,  was  no  longer  young.  More- 
over, he  had  been  wounded  twice  while  fighting  against 
the  Turks,  and  although  as  valiant  as  ever,  was  phys- 
ically no  match  for  her  dreaded  suitor.  Conrad,  on 
the  other  hand,  was  young,  supple  and  stalwart,  with 
an  open  and  a  fearless  eye.  He  inspired  Ursula  with 
a  strange  hope.  As  she  conversed  with  him  this  feel- 
ing, which  had  taken  deep  hold  of  her  heart,  found  ex- 
pression in  her  eyes.  He  understood  their  meaning. 

There  were  other  Crusaders  present.  Naturally,  the 
conversation  turned  for  a  time  on  their  adventures  in 
the  Holy  Land.  But  the  Duke  found  it  necessary  to 
give  a  full  account  of  his  and  Conrad's  imprisonment 
and  their  escape,  in  which  narration  Rosalie's  name 
was  often  mentioned.  To  this  name  Ursula  listened 
with  lively  interest  and  strange  emotions. 

Bernard  von  Wolfram,  the  Minstrel,  was  called  on 
for  a  song.  Accompanying  himself  on  the  harp,  he 
sang  a  warlike  ballad,  introducing  his  inspiring  lady- 
love with  tender  effect.  Ursula  smiled  her  approval 
on  her  faithful  knight,  while  the  assembled  guests  ap- 
plauded him  vigorously.  Toasts  to  the  health  of  the 
Duke  and  Duchess,  the  Princess  Ursula,  Conrad  von 
Rheinstein,  and  Bernard,  the  Minstrel,  were  drunk 


THE  FALCON'S  ROCK.  85 

in  due  succession.  Prince  Steffel's  name,  which  was 
not  popular,  was  purposely  omitted.  The  uncouth 
giant  drank  his  wine  in  silence,  meanwhile  nursing  his 
wrath  and  thirsting  for  the  revenge  he  meant  to  take 
in  the  lists. 

The  banquet  ended,  a  dance  in  the  adjoining  hall 
was  next  in  order.  Conrad,  under  the  intoxicating 
spell  of  the  Princess'  beauty,  guided  her  vaguely 
through  the  figures  then  in  vogue.  The  Duchess 
could  not  remove  her  eyes  from  the  handsome  couple. 
Hopes,  born  of  motherly  solicitude,  sprang  up  in  her 
heart  that  Ursula  would  find  a  welcome  suitor  in  this 
gallant  young  knight,  who,  she  felt  sure,  must  already 
have  lost  his  heart  to  her  beautiful  daughter.  Prince 
Steffel's  face  was  green  with  jealousy;  and  when  he 
approached  Ursula  to  ask  for  a  later  dance,  and  found 
that  engaged  by  Bernard  von  Wolfram  and  the  one 
still  later  by  Conrad,  he  became  furious,  and  left  the 
room  in  a  fit  of  sullen  anger. 

Conrad  retired  to  rest,  with  heart  and  mind  in  a 
whirl  of  excitement.  He  lay  awake  the  greater  part  of 
the  night.  When  at  last  nature  claimed  her  due 
and  he  slept,  both  the  Princess  and  Rosalie  appeared 
to  him  in  his  dreams,  standing  with  arms  outstretched 
toward  him.  As  he  stood  undecided  toward  whom  to 
turn,  Rosalie  motioned  him  to  Ursula.  He  advanced 
toward  her,  but  even  as  he  felt  the  arms  of  the  beautiful 


86  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

Princess  around  his  neck,  and  pressed  her  to  his  heart, 
her  identity  underwent  a  change ;  the  face  and  the  form 
were  those  of  Rosalie. 

On  awakening  he  was  much  perplexed  by  his  dream  ; 
but  he  soon  forgot  it  among  the  eventful  realities  of 
the  scenes  which  followed. 


THE  TOURNAMENT.  87 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  TOURNAMENT. 

"The  shout 

Of  battle  now  began,  and  rushing  sound 
Of  onset  ended  soon  each  milder  thought." 

— Milton. 

The  day  following  the  Duke's  return  was  a  busy  one 
at  Falkenstein.  Conrad  saw  little  of  Ursula,  but  that 
little  was  enough  to  increase  his  admiration  and  inspire 
him  with  the  utmost  zeal  in  preparing  for  the  events 
of  the  morrow. 

Owing  to  the  threatened  postponement  of  the  fes- 
tivities, the  arranging  of  the  elaborate  accesso- 
ries necessary  to  their  success  was  much  hurried. 
For  the  last  twenty-four  hours  the  energies  of  the 
Princess  and  her  attendants  had  been  taxed  to  the 
utmost.  In  the  short  time  which  had  intervened,  how- 
ever, so  much  had  been  accomplished  that  Ursula  de- 
cided to  give  her  final  orders,  while  resting  in  a  small 
room  in  the  tower  of  the  palace  which  overlooked  the 
arena. 


88  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

Conrad,  at  first  regretting  the  absence  of  his  good 
horse,  Saladin,  had  reason  to  be  content  with  the  fine 
stallion  presented  to  him  by  the  Duke,  a  spirited 
animal,  much  heavier  than  his  own  Arabian  steed,  and 
therefore  better  suited  to  be  pitted  against  the  over- 
grown bulk  of  his  Pomeranian  rival. 

During  the  morning  and  afternoon  of  that  day  Con- 
rad, clad  in  full  armor,  put  his  noble  animal  through 
various  maneuvers  on  the  broad  plateau,  while  the 
preparations  for  the  tournament  were  in  progress. 

He  was  little  aware  that  besides  those  of  the  inter- 
ested workmen,  there  were  two  beautiful  eyes,  con- 
cealed behind  curtained  windows  of  the  tower,  which 
sought  him  out,  watching  his  every  movement;  and 
that  the  heart  of  their  owner  beat  high  with  enthu- 
siasm as  she  observed  the  masterly  horsemanship  of 
her  newly  chosen  knight,  who  sat  in  his  saddle  as 
though  horse  and  rider  were  one. 

As  a  contest  in  marksmanship  was  to  form  a  part  of 
the  expected  entertainment,  Conrad  found  time  to 
practice  shooting  with  a  cross-bow.  To  his  great  dis- 
gust his  bolts  fell  wide  of  the  mark,  which  hardly 
should  have  surprised  him,  as  he  had  not  handled  a 
bow  since  his  boyhood. 

In  the  center  of  the  lists  a  temporary  throne  for  the 
Princess  and  her  august  parents  was  in  process  of 
erection,  with  adjoining  seats  on  either  side  for  the 


THE  TOURNAMENT.  89 

nobility,  as  well  as  platforms  for  a  large  concourse 
of  people,  extending  the  entire  length  along  the  rear 
of  the  outbuildings.  Wooden  fences,  shaped  like  cres- 
cents, had  been  placed  at  each  end  of  the  grounds, 
around  which  ran  the  course  for  both  horse  and  foot 
races.  Fastened  against  one  of  these  was  a  target 
for  the  cross-bow  contest.  The  rest  of  the  space  had 
been  left  clear  for  the  tilt  between  armed  knights  on 
their  mailed  chargers,  the  all-important  event  of  the 
coming  day. 

Although  our  hero  had  gained  considerable  mas- 
tery over  his  steed  while  exercising  it,  he  nevertheless 
looked  forward  with  some  doubt  and  even  trepidation 
to  meeting  his  powerful  rival,  the  Pomeranian  Prince. 

A  glorious  morning,  promising  a  beautiful  day  for 
the  great  festival,  dawned  over  the  Principality  of 
Falkenstein.  The  sparkling  sunlight,  tempered  by 
fleecy  clouds  and  cooling  breezes,  greeted  the  large  as- 
sembly of  people  as  they  entored  the  grounds  and 
ranged  themselves  in  expectation  of  the  arrival  of  the 
Queen  of  the  Tourney,  their  beloved  Princess. 

A  great  shout  of  welcome  rent  the  air  as  Ursula,  at- 
tired in  white  and  gold,  ascended  the  throne,  followed 
by  the  Duke  and  Duchess,  the  latter  borne  on  a  chair. 

Seated  under  a  canopy  of  blue,  the  Princess  shed 
the  radiance  of  her  beauty  on  all.  In  her  anxiety  as 
to  the  result  of  the  approaching  contest,  her  heart 


90  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

fluttered  unwontedly ;  and,  as  she  scanned  with  eager 
eyes  the  knights  entering  the  field  at  the  central  gate, 
her  countenance  betrayed  conflicting  emotions  by  the 
color  which  came  and  went. 

Conrad,  Bernard  von  Wolfram,  Prince  Steffel,  and 
nine  other  mounted  knights  in  full  armor,  rode  slowly 
forward  in  line  to  the  throne  and  dipped  their  lances  to 
the  Princess.  She  arose,  bowing  gracefully  in  ac- 
knowledgment of  the  salute;  then  motioning  Con- 
rad to  approach,  she  fastened  a  white  and  gold  scarf 
around  his  arm,  saying  in  an  undertone,  "I  have  faith 
in  thee,  Sir  Knight.  May  God  and  Our  Lady  protect 
thee!" 

Prince  Steffel,  seeing  the  movement  of  her  lips, 
gnashed  his  teeth,  muttering  a  savage  oath  under  his 
closed  visor.  Conrad  fell  again  into  line,  elated,  but 
striving  to  collect  his  thoughts,  well  knowing  that  on 
his  coolness  and  skill,  rather  than  on  his  strength,  de- 
pended the  fortunes  <jf  the  day. 

At  a  signal  from  the  Duke,  the  Herald  announced 
in  a  loud  voice  the  order  of  the  combats.  A  bugle 
sounded.  All  eyes  became  riveted  upon  the  stalwart 
knights,  drawn  up  in  opposing  ranks.  A  second  bugle- 
note  rang  out  the  signal  for  battle.  With  lances  firmly 
couched,  they  rushed  like  a  whirlwind  to  the  charge. 
The  crash  came  in  the  center  of  the  lists  in  front  of  the 
throne.  Stout  lances  were  broken  and  splintered  like 


THE  TOURNAMENT.  91 

reeds.  Some  of  the  knights  were  unhorsed.  The  more 
fortunate  galloped  on,  apparently  unhurt  by  the  shock, 
and  returned  to  finish  the  combat  with  the  sword. 

Ursula  saw  Prince  Steffel,  who  towered  above  all 
others,  unhorse  several  of  the  opposing  knights, 
without  apparent  effort ;  but  Conrad,  her  champion, 
to  her  great  delight,  had  acquitted  himself  well. 
His  wonderful  horsemanship  and  gallant  bearing 
called  forth  ringing  plaudits  from  the  admiring 
multitude.  Bernard  von  Wolfram  unhorsed  one 
antagonist,  and  with  his  sword  worsted  another,  but 
was  well  nigh  conquered  by  a  third,  a  most  pow- 
erful knight,  upon  whom  he  inflicted  as  great  pun- 
ishment as  he  received.  Being  too  much  injured  to 
continue  the  contest,  both  were  led  from  the  field. 
The  Minstrel  soon  returned,  to  the  delight  of  Ursula. 
Though  pale  and  halting,  he  was  able  to  fill  a  seat 
among  the  spectators,  near  the  Queen  of  his  soul  and 
his  song. 

By  this  time  only  two  were  left  in  the  lists  unhurt, 
Prince  Steffel  and  Conrad  von  Rheinstein,  and  they 
were  to  face  each  other  in  what  many  feared  would 
be  mortal  combat. 

Ursula's  heart  beat  tumultuously,  as,  after  a  short 
pause,  she  saw  them  confront  each  other.  Inwardly 
she  murmured  a  prayer  for  the  safety  of  her  gallant 
knight. 


92  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

Prince  Steffel  noticed  her  anxious  look,  and  know- 
ing well  that  it  was  not  on  his  account,  determined  to 
kill  his  rival.  When  they  met  in  front  of  the  throne, 
Ursula  saw  the  giant  form  of  the  Pomeranian,  mounted 
on  an  immense  charger,  bear  down  resistlessly,  as  it 
seemed,  on  Conrad.  Her  heart  stood  still — for  one 
moment  only,  however.  In  the  next  it  leaped  for 
joy ;  for  after  a  fearful  crash,  in  which  her  hero's  lance 
was  shivered  and  his  horse  thrown  backward  on  his 
haunches,  both  combatants  galloped  away  unhurt. 

The  younger  knight,  guiding  his  horse  close  to  his 
adversary,  had  dexterously  evaded  the  point  aimed  at 
his  head,  by  an  outward  turn  of  his  body,  and  had 
broken  his  own  lance  into  splinters  against  the  shield 
of  the  Pomeranian  giant.  Though  somewhat  shaken, 
he  felt  that  there  was  to  be  no  breathing  spell ;  for 
already  Prince  Steffel,  according  to  rule,  had  thrown 
away  his  lance,  and  muttering  bitter  oaths  between 
his  teeth  for  having  missed  his  aim,  had  returned  to 
the  charge,  sword  in  hand. 

In  his  eagerness  to  reach  his  foe,  the  Prince  gal- 
loped past  the  throne,  from  which  Ursula  watched  him 
with  loathing  and  breathless  suspense.  Conrad,  on 
the  other  hand,  stood  motionless,  not  far  away,  await- 
ing his  enemy's  attack.  As  the  Prince,  -with  lifted 
sword,  was  on  the  point  of  delivering  his  blow,  Con- 
rad, driving  the  spur  into  his  horse's  flank,  made  him 


THE  TOURNAMENT.  93 

leap  sidewise  out  of  the  giant's  reach.  Then  wheel- 
ing him  quickly  around  he  reached,  from  behind,  his 
surprised  antagonist's  left  side. 

Before  the  Prince  could  face  him,  the  forefeet  of 
Conrad's  horse  grazed  the  neck  of  the  Pomeranian's 
steed  ;  while  with  a  mighty  and  well-directed  stroke  in 
passing,  his  sword  cleft  the  steel  cap,  and  inflicted  a 
deep  gash  on  the  Prince's  head.  Reining  in  his  charger 
a  few  strides  beyond,  he  saw  the  Prince  sway  in  his 
saddle,  and  knew  at  once  that  he  held  his  gigantic 
rival's  life  at  his  mercy.  His  generous  nature,  however, 
restrained  Conrad  from  dealing  a  fatal  blow.  Facing 
him  again,  he  received  the  weak  stroke  of  the  wounded, 
half-blinded  Pomeranian,  on  his  shield,  and  in  turn, 

.9 

catching  him  with  the  point  of  his  sword  near  the 
right  shoulder,  thrust  him  off  his  rearing  steed  into 
the  dust. 

Ursula,  having  watched  the  combat  to  its  issue  with 
intense  excitement  and  anxiety,  gave  a  great  gasp  of 
relief;  her  heart  was  almost  bursting  with  thankful- 
ness; her  eyes,  dim  with  happy  tears,  followed  her 
brave  knight,  as  he  galloped  past,  victorious. 

Amid  the  blare  of  trumpets  and  loud  plaudits  to 
the  victor  from  the  assembled  multitude,  Prince  Stef- 
fel,  stunned  by  his  fall,  arose  with  the  assistance  of  his 
attendant  squires.  When  they  had  removed  his  hel- 
met, the  blood  meanwhile  streaming  down  his  face, 


94  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

he  glared  about  in  utter  bewilderment  for  a  space ; 
then  gathering  himself  together  with  an  effort,  a  deep 
scowl  darkening  his  ugly  visage,  he  shook  his  clenched 
fist,  first  at  Conrad,  then  at  the  occupants  of  the 
throne,  and  suffered  himself  to  be  led  from  the  lists. 
Soon  after,  with  deep-seated  vengeance  in  his  heart, 
he  left  the  castle,  followed  by  his  many  retainers,  much 
to  the  relief  of  the  Princess  and  her  guests. 

Conrad  dismounted.  Ascending  the  steps  leading  to 
the  throne,  he  knelt  before  Ursula,  modestly  await- 
ing his  reward.  The  beautiful  woman  smiled  on  her 
victorious  champion  as  only  she  could  smile.  Taking 
from  her  fair  neck  a  golden  chain  from  which  was  sus- 
pended a  jeweled  dagger,  she  hung  it  around  the  neck 
of  her  deliverer,  saying,  "Wear  this  for  my  sake, 
brave  Conrad  von  Rheinstein ;  thou  hast  earned 
my  everlasting  gratitude !" 

The  young  knight  looked  into  her  beautiful  eyes 
until  he  was  entranced.  Nevertheless  he  managed  to 
take  her  soft  white  hand  and  bring  it  to  his  lips,  and 
seemed  disposed  to  hold  it  there  longer  than  was 
necessary.  As  she  gently  withdrew  it,  he  found  voice 
to  say : 

"Noble  Princess,  to  have  earned  thy  friendship  is  a 
first  step  toward  heaven  on  earth !  What  mortal  would 
not  risk  his  life  for  such  a  boon  ?" 

Conrad  felt  abashed  at  having  said  so  much ;  but 


THE  TOURNAMENT.  95 

when  he  noted  in  his  lady's  face  a  readiness  to  forgive 
the  extravagant  tribute,  he  became  reassured.  Joyful 
beyond  measure  in  her  timely  deliverance  from  a  de- 
tested suitor,  she  bade  him  rise  and  keep  the  scarf 
around  his  arm  in  memory  of  that  day. 

The  Duke  and  Duchess,  whose  delight  well-nigh 
equaled  that  of  their  daughter,  warmly  congratulated 
the  hero  of  the  day  on  his  victory.  If,  in  this,  the 
happiest  and  proudest  moment  of  his  life,  the  young 
Knight-Errant  entirely  forgot,  for  the  time  being,  the 
young  girl  who  had  saved  his  life,  one  must  forgive 
him. 

Those  of  the  knights  who  were  not  actually  disabled 
had  remounted,  and  rode  forth  from  the  scene  of  their 
conflict  through  the  courtyard  gate.  Leaving  their 
horses  with  attendants,  they  doffed  their  armor,  and 
returned  to  the  arena  for  the  final  contest  with  cross- 
bows, clad,  like  Conrad,  in  festive  hunting  costume. 

Ursula  poured  for  each  a  goblet  of  wine.  Conrad 
she  invited  to  a  place  at  her  feet,  while  Bernard  von 
Wolfram  found  his  place  on  the  steps  lower  down,  yet 
within  speaking  distance  of  his  divinity. 

3L. 

The  bugle  sounded  for  the  next  contest,  a  horse- 
race, without  saddles,  in  which  the  peasantry  partici- 
pated. Lads  over  fifteen  years  of  age  being  admitted, 
several  young  squires  took  part  in  this,  the  most  amus- 
ing feature  of  the  day's  entertainment. 


%  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

Horses  under  a  certain  height  were  excluded ;  never- 
theless the  differences  in  their  sizes,  and  the  contrast 
between  the  stupid  faces  of  the  peasants  and  those  of 
the  gay  and  shrewd  retainers  of  the  knights,  proved  a 
most  laughable  spectacle.  The  course,  which  encir- 
cled the  entire  arena,  had  its  starting  and  finishing  post 
directly  in  front  of  the  silken  canopy  beneath  which 
sat  the  Princess.  Over  a  score  took  part  in  the  race. 
Among  them  Ursula  and  Conrad  noticed  two  young 
riders  who  remained  close  together  amid  all  the  con- 
fusion attending  the  start.  One  of  them,  a  handsome, 
dark-eyed  lad,  was  mounted  on  a  spirited,  well-bred 
horse,  which  he  sat  firmly  and  gracefully.  The  other, 
a  pale-faced  boy  of  the  peasantry,  on  a  tall,  long- 
limbed,  thin  animal,  was  himself  so  tall  and  thin  that  he 
looked  as  if  he  might  break  in  two  at  the  least  provoca- 
tion. Though  awkward  in  appearance,  he,  also,  sat  his 
horse  well. 

"The  face  of  that  dark-eyed  boy,"  said  Ursula, 
"seems  familiar  to  me,  yet  I  cannot  at  the  moment  re- 
call where  I  have  seen  him." 

"He  is  an  excellent  rider,"  Conrad  rejoined,  looking 
up  admiringly  at  her  flushed  and  interested  face.  "That 
tall,  thin  youth,  with  his  long-legged  steed,  will  scarce 
be  as  close  to  his  friend  at  the  end  of  the  race  as  he  is 
at  present." 

The  signal  for  the  start  was  now  given.    It  was  as 


THE  TOURNAMENT.  97 

much  as  the  majority  of  the  riders  could  do  to  keep  on 
their  horses  at  all.  Before  they  had  fairly  started 
many  were  rolling  in  the  dust,  their  horses  galloping 
off  riderless.  The  other  animals,  excited  by  the  loud 
uproar  of  the  spectators,  kicked  and  plunged  until  the 
flag  fell,  when  those  whose  riders  had  managed  to  keep 
their  seats,  actually  got  away. 

"They  are  a  motley  crew,"  cried  Bernard  von  Wol- 
fram, his  sore  sides  shaking  with  laughter.  "I  will  lay 
a  wager  that  the  dark  lad  just  noticed  by  thee,  noble 
Princess,  will  win  the  race." 

"I  quite  agree  with  thee,  my  faithful  minstrel,  and 
therefore  we  cannot  wager,"  replied  the  Princess,  "but 
who  is  he  ?" 

"He  is  in  my  service,"  answered  Wolfram.  "I  will 
tell  thee  more  of  him  anon." 

All  eyes  were  now  on  the  riders  as  they  rounded  the 
first  barrier,  where  two  more  unfortunates  were  thrown 
at  the  turn.  As  they  re-entered  the  open  track,  the 
two  youths,  who  had  kept  back  at  the  start,  were  seen 
in  the  front  rank  close  alongside  each  other.  From 
that  moment  they  forged  steadily  ahead,  and  before 
rounding  the  second  turn  had  outrun  all  competitors. 
On  the  home  stretch,  as  they  still  ran  neck  and  neck 
toward  the  winning  post,  an  excited  murmur  ran 
through  the  throng.  Every  eye  was  strained  upon 


98  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

them.  As  they  drew  nearer,  Ursula  and  Conrad  arose, 
involuntarily.  To  their  great  surprise  they  noticed 
that  the  dark-eyed  rider  was  lying  back  and  holding 
in  his  horse  with  all  his  might,  while  the  tall,  pale- 
faced  youth,  bending  forward,  plied  his  whip  vigorous- 
ly on  his  foaming  steed.  The  flag  fell.  The  pale  rider 
had  won  by  a  neck.  A  neck  only,  it  is  true ;  but  by  it 
he  had  secured  the  first  prize,  a  considerable  sum  of 
money.  Livid  as  death,  he  was  helped  from  his  horse 
and  hurried  to  a  shady  spot.  There  he  lay  for  some 
time,  gasping  for  breath,  while  one  of  Ursula's  at- 
tendants brought  to  him  the  bag  of  coin  which  he  had 
won.  His  dark-eyed  companion,  on  the  other  hand, 
dismounting  as  nimbly  as  possible,  knelt  at  the  feet 
of  the  Princess  and  received  at  the  hands  of  a  servitor 
the  second  prize,  a  beautiful  saddle  and  bridle,  which 
were  destined  to  be  used  by  him  many  times  in  the 
service  of  the  noble  giver.  The  boy  bore  himself 
throughout  in  a  graceful  and  manly  fashion.  Ursula 
inquired  of  the  minstrel  if  he,  too,  had  noticed  him 
pulling  in  his  horse  toward  the  end  of  the  race. 

"Indeed  I  did,"  replied  Wolfram,  "and  I  do  not  un- 
derstand it.  I  shall  question  him  about  it  by  and  by. 
Kurt  is  a  brave  lad,  and  but  sixteen  years  old.  I  was 
fortunate  enough  to  meet  with  him  on  my  way  home 
from  the  Holy  Land." 


THE  TOURNAMENT.  99 

"Oh,  I  remember  now,"  said  the  Princess.  "How 
well  he  rides !" 

"He  does,  indeed,  noble  lady,"  replied  the  Knight, 
"and  he  rode  an  excellent  horse.  Surely,  had  he 
wished  it,  he  might  have  won  the  race." 

A  foot-race  was  next  in  order,  in  which  many  of 
the  bareback  riders  participated.  The  boy  Kurt,  with 
his  somewhat  short  legs,  tried  pluckily  and  honestly, 
this  time,  to  outrun  his  competitors  to  the  end.  The 
victor  of  the  horse-race  lay  in  the  shade  meanwhile, 
unable  to  take  part  in  the  contest  as  he  had  hoped 
to  do,  and  thereby  win  another  money  prize.  It  was 
captured,  instead,  by  a  strong  young  fellow,  who  was 
one  of  the  Duke's  retainers.  Kurt,  having  again  come 
in  second,  his  face  all  aglow  with  exertion,  knelt  once 
mere  before  Ursula,  and  received  a  half-sword,  a  kind 
of  large  dagger  of  the  finest  steel,  which  he  buckled 
to  his  waist  as  he  strode  proudly  back  to  join  his  fellow 
dependents. 

Then  followed  the  last,  and  next  to  the  combat  be- 
tween the  armed  knights,  the  most  important  contest 
of  the  tournament.  It  consisted  of  a  trial  of  marks- 
manship with  the  cross-bow,  for  which  the  list  of  com- 
petitors was  made  up  of  visiting  knights  and  foresters. 
Though  some  of  the  former  had  acquired  in  the  chase 
a  good  command  of  this  weapon,  they  were  scarce  a 
match  for  their  formidable  opponents,  fresh  from  their 


100          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

daily  practice  in  forest  and  field.  Conrad,  lingering 
near  Ursula,  was  the  last  to  enter  the  lists,  feeling 
doubtful,  after 'his  unsatisfactory  trial  of  the  day  pre- 
vious, of  his  ability  to  even  hit  the  target  at  all.  His 
belief  in  a  lucky  star,  that  day,  urged  him  on. 

Again  the  bugle  sounded.  The  competitors  formed 
in  line  in  front  of  the  throne,  with  the  young  Knight 
of  Rheinstein  at  the  extreme  end.  The  shooting  be- 
gan. Many  admirable  shots  were  made,  the  foresters 
having  the  best  of  it,  until  the  last  marksman  sent  his 
bolt.  This  was  Conrad,  who  luckily,  and  entirely  by 
accident,  hit  the  very  center  of  the  bull's-eye,  in  close 
proximity  to  three  others.  How  he  managed  to  make 
this  fortunate  shot,  he  never  could  imagine.  It  suf- 
ficed, however,  to  make  him  the  victor  in  this  contest 
also.  Verily,  his  star  was  in  the  ascendant. 

Once  more  a  shout  went  up  for  the  young  knight- 
errant.  Ursula,  with  a  look  in  which  admiration  and 
affection  were  visibly  blended,  motioned  him  to  ap- 
proach and  receive  from  her  the  last  prize  of  the  day. 

Just  at  this  moment,  a  sudden  and  unexpected  bugle 
blast  heralded  a  newcomer.  A  young  horseman  clad 
in  russet  and  green  galloped  into  the  arena,  followed 
by  a  dozen  mounted  attendants.  He  halted  before  the 
blue  canopy,  knelt  at  the  feet  of  Ursula,  and  craved 
permission,  at  this  late  hour,  to  enter  the  list  of  the 
marksmen. 


THE  TOURNAMENT.  101 

The  Princess  saw  before  her  a  noble  youth  of  grace- 
ful bearing,  dark  complexion  and  wonderfully  deep 
black  eyes,  who  regarded  her  with  undisguised  admira- 
tion. She  blushed  deeply  in  spite  of  herself.  With  a 
slight  inclination  of  the  head  she  referred  him  to  her 
father.  The  Duke,  calling  the  newcomer  "Hugo," 
told  him  that  he  was  free  to  take  part  in  the  contest; 
but  that  he  failed  to  see  how  he  could  possibly  outdo 
Knight  Conrad,  whose  bolt  still  remained  fastened  in 
the  center  of  the  target. 

"With  your  leave,  noble  Duke,"  answered  Hugo, 
"I  would  fain  examine  its  exact  position  and  try  to 
put  mine  in  its  place." 

Though  this  was  said  modestly  enough,  the  words 
seemed  to  convey  a  foolish  boast  to  the  minds  of  his 
astonished  listeners.  The  Duke,  however,  made  no 
further  objection.  The  young  forester  went  to  the 
target,  finding  by  measurement  that  Conrad's  bolt  was 
a  trifle  below  the  actual  center.  On  returning  he  took 
a  finely  wrought  crossbow  from  the  hands  of  one  of 
his  attendants.  Advancing  to  the  line  in  front  of  the 
throne,  to  the  further  astonishment  of  the  spectators, 
he  deliberately  stepped  twenty  paces  backward,  in  or- 
der to  make  a  long-distance  shot.  As  he  stood  there, 
his  dark-green,  light-fitting  suit  setting  off  to  perfec- 
tion his  graceful  figure,  his  handsome  face  aglow  with 
excitement  as  his  eye  scanned  the  stock  of  his  cross- 


102          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

bow,  he  made  a  picture  which  deeply  impressed  Ur- 
sula. With  lips  slightly  parted  and  for  the  time  ob- 
livious to  everything  around  her,  she  watched  him  in- 
tently. 

With  a  well-calculated  upward  curve,  his  sharp- 
pointed  bolt  whizzed  through  the  air.  In  descending 
it  struck  the  bull's-eye  directly  upon  the  point  of  Con- 
rad's shaft,  driving  the  latter  downward  deeper  into 
the  wood,  and  lodging  immediately  above  it. 

The  wildest  enthusiasm  followed  this  extraordinary 
shot,  the  foresters  in  particular  being  greatly  elated, 
some  of  them  essaying  to  carry  their  young  champion 
on  their  shoulders.  This  distinction  he  modestly  de- 
clined. Walking  to  the  blue  canopy,  crossbow  in 
hand,  he  again  knelt  at  the  feet  of  the  Princess. 

Their  eyes  met.  Ursula  became  confused,  so  ar- 
dent was  the  gaze  of  Hugo  von  Waldhorst.  In  a  low 
voice  she  bade  him  rise,  and  placed  in  his  hand  a 
carved  ivory  image  of  herself,  attached  to  a  delicate 
golden  chain,  which,  but  a  few  moments  before,  she 
had  taken  from  her  bosom  as  a  prize  to  be  hung 
around  Conrad's  neck. 

The  youth  pressed  his  lips  to  her  hand,  which  only 
increased  Ursula's  confusion,  while  he  said  softly,  "I 
shall  wear  this  image  on  my  heart  to  my  dying  day, 
in  memory  of  thy  gracious  kindness  to  the  son  of  one 


THE  TOURNAMENT.  103 

who  has  forfeited  all  claims  to  honorable  knighthood 
by  betraying  thy  father's  friendship."  He  arose  and 
turned  toward  his  attendants. 

Conrad  had  been  a  silent  spectator  of  Ursula's  emo- 
tion, and  wondered  who  this  last  comer  might  be. 

The  Duke  descended  into  the  lists,  now  astir  with  the 
departing  multitude.  He  spoke  to  the  young  hunts- 
man within  Conrad's  hearing,  inviting  him  to  remain 
and  participate  in  the  banquet  and  further  festivities. 

Hugo  declared  himself  unable  to  do  so,  saying,  "It 
was  to  discover  what  had  become  of  Rosalie  that  I 
journeyed  hither.  At  the  Monastery  I  learned  that 
she  was  safe  at  the  Convent  of  St.  Agnes.  Having 
come  so  far,  I  could  not  resist  a  desire  to  reach  Falk- 
enstein  in  time  for  this  trial  with  my  crossbow." 

"Thou  didst  right,  Hugo,"  replied  the  Duke,  "and 
wilt  always  be  welcome  at  my  hearth,  even  though  thy 
father  has  betrayed  me,  his  oldest  and  best  friend. 
Should  he  continue  in  his  mad  career,  I  will  not  suffer 
Rosalie  to  return  to  his  roof,  but  will  adopt  her  my- 
self when  she  leaves  the  convent." 

"Indeed,  it  has  come  to  this ;  we  are  dependent  on 
thee,. gracious  Duke,  our  kind  and  noble  friend,"  said 
Hugo;  "but  I  must  needs  bid  thee  farewell,  and  I 
crave  forgiveness  for  having  today,  in  a  moment  of 
weakness,  recalled  the  dishonored  name  of  Waldhorst 
to  this  noble  gathering." 


104          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

"Thou  hast,  rather,  redeemed  that  name,"  replied 
the  Duke,  "and  I  regret  to  have  thee  depart  so  speed- 
ily. Do  not  fail  to  acquaint  me  as  to  how  matters  go 
between  thee  and  thy  father.  God  speed  thee !" 

He  was  gone,  the  handsome  young  forester,  who 
had  played  so  unexpected,  and  unknowingly,  an  im- 
portant part  in  the  events  of  that  memorable  day. 

"This  is  the  second  child  of  Hans  von  Waldhorst," 
soliloquized  Conrad,  "who  has  thus  crossed  my  path 
in  the  most  extraordinary  manner.  This  youth,  if  I 
mistake  not,  has  made  a  deep  impression  on  the  Prin- 
cess, whom  I  fancied  to  be  already  favorably  inclined 
toward  me.  In  spite  of  it  all  I  cannot  help  liking  him ; 
it  must  be  because  he  reminded  me  of  Rosalie." 

It  was  thus  that  Hugo's  sister  was  brought  to  the 
mind  of  Conrad  at  the  end  of  all  the  engrossing  excite- 
ment of  the  tournament  and  its  victories. 

It  may  well  be  mentioned,  just  here,  that  after  a 
severe  struggle  between  Hugo  and  his  father,  the 
Duke's  horse  and  Conrad's,  with  the  attendants  of  the 
former,  were  set  free  from  Waldhorst,  and  arrived  at 
the  Castle  of  Falkenstein  within  one  week  after  the 
great  festal  day. 

When  Saladin  caught  sight  of  his  master,  he  neighed 
for  joy;  he  kicked,  and  plunged,  and  pranced,  and 
finally  drew  near  and  laid  his  head  on  his  shoulder  to 
be  patted.  Conrad  stroked  his  neck  and  vaulted  upon 


THE  TOURNAMENT.  105 

his  back.  After  gamboling  about  for  some  minutes 
to  the  entertainment  of  the  bystanders,  the  happy 
young  knight  saw  his  faithful  steed  safely  ensconced 
in  the  stall,  and  whispered  in  his  ear  of  many  canters 
that  were  in  store  for  him  in  company  with  the  beauti- 
ful Princess. 


106         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  BANQUET. 

"The  banquet  waits  our  presence,  festal  joy 
Laughs  in  the  mantling  goblet,  and  the  night 
Illumin'd  by  the  taper's  dazzling  beam 
Rivals  departed  day." 

— Barbarossa. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  of  the  tournaments  just 
described,  there  were  seated  around  the  richly  laden 
board  in  the  decorated  banquet  hall  of  the  Castle  of 
Falkenstein,  a  goodly  company  of  knights  and  ladies, 
foresters  and  dames. 

At  one  end  of  the  table,  under  a  canopy  of  roses, 
sat  Ursula,  flushed,  excited,  at  times  apparently  some- 
what absent-minded,  but  withal  more  beautiful  than 
ever.  Conrad  occupied  the  seat  of  honor  on  her  right. 
Bernard  von  Wolfram  had  his  usual  place  upon  her 
left,  his  aged  frame  still  sore  from  the  severe  encounter 
in  the  lists,  but  not  so  much  as  to  prevent  his  becom- 
ing brilliant  and  entertaining  as  the  quickening  wine 


THE  BANQUET.  107 

mounted  to  his  brain.  The  conversation  naturally 
turned  upon  the  late  tournament,  and  Conrad  was  ac- 
corded most  of  the  glory. 

When  the  skillful  young  huntsman,  who  had  so  sud- 
denly appeared  and  disappeared,  was  mentioned,  and 
inquiry  made  as  to  his  name,  the  Duke  informed  his 
guests  that  he  was  the  son  of  his  former  friend,  but 
now  his  worst  enemy,  Hans  von  Waldhorst;  adding 
that  he  hoped  no  one  present  would  bear  ill-will  against 
the  children  of  that  miscreant.  A  murmur  of  surprise 
followed  this  appeal.  Conrad  noted  in  Ursula's  face 
an  expression  of  pain.  Putting  aside  what  little  jeal- 
ousy existed  in  his  generous  nature,  and  only  anxious 
to  turn  the  conversation  from  a  subject  which  seemed 
to  distress  her,  he  stood  up  gallantly,  announcing  in 
a  clear,  ringing  voice  the  first  toast  of  the  evening, 
"To  the  Queen  of  the  Tournament ;  the  Queen  of  our 
hearts ;  Ursula,  the  fairest,  the  noblest,  the  loveliest  of 
her  sex.  God  bless  her !" 

The  guests  applauded  this  sentiment  vigorously,  the 
Duke  and  Duchess  smiling  happily  the  while  at 
the  gallantry  of  their  daughter's  champion.  Ursula  in- 
clined her  head  to  our  hero  in  acknowledgment,  but 
ere  she  could  speak  the  minstrel  arose.  Without  ac- 
companiment, he  sang  in  thrilling  cadences  a  verse 
descriptive  of  the  influence  of  womanly  beauty  and 
goodness  such  as  hers  on  benighted  mankind. 


108          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

As  he  sat  down,  Ursula  turned  to  Conrad  with  a 
fascinating  smile,  saying:  "I  fear  that  the  words  of 
my  devoted  minstrel,  as  well  as  thine,  my  noble 
Knight,  are  unmerited.  The  sentiments  they  express 
are  hardly  applicable  to  me." 

"My  poor  words,"  exclaimed  Conrad,  "and  even 
those  of  that  beautiful  song,  fail  in  doing  justice  to 
thy  beauty,  noble  Princess,  or  to  the  goodness  of  thy 
heart,  both  of  which  radiate  far-reaching  joy  and  hap- 
piness." 

"I  thank  thee,  my  noble  Knight,"  answered  Ursula ; 
"and  that  thou  thinkest  well  of  me,  thy  brave  deeds 
of  this  day,  which  I  shall  ever  remember,  have  proven." 

She  extended  her  hand  to  him.  For  the  second 
time  that  day  he  pressed  it  to  his  lips,  yet  she  with- 
drew it  more  quickly  that  she  had  done  at  the  tourna- 
ment, before  the  appearance  of  the  young  forester. 
Bernard  von  Wolfram  now  arose,  saying:  "Let  us 
drink  to  the  hero  of  the  day,  Conrad  von  Rheinstein ; 
hoping  that  every  unworthy  aspirant  to  the  hand  of 
our  gracious  Princess  may  be  chastised  by  him,  as  was 
that  overgrown  Pomeranian  Prince." 

Conrad  received  a  perfect  ovation.  Ursula  touched 
goblets  with  him,  and  actually  drained  her  own,  the 
first  and  only  wine  she  tasted.  After  this  her  face 


THE  BANQUET.  109 

brightened,  and  she  was  herself  again.  The  hostess 
then  reminded  Wolfram  of  the  promised  information 
concerning  his  young  servant,  Kurt. 

"I  met  him  in  the  strangest  manner,"  replied  the 
minstrel ;  "and  should  it  please  thee,  noble  Princess, 
and  thy  honored  guests,  I  will  tell  the  story."  As  all 
desired  to  hear  the  tale  from  so  good  and  entertaining 
a  romancer,  he  began : 

"One  evening,  on  my  return  from  the  Holy  Land, 
after  a  long  day's  journey  on  horseback  through  Hun- 
gary, I  reached  the  spacious  residence  of  a  well-to-do 
peasant,  whom  I  asked  for  shelter.  I  was  alone,  my 
only  servant  having  died  soon  after  leaving  Palestine. 
The  owner  and  his  buxom  wife  bade  me  wel- 
come. In  a  very  short  time  we  sat  down  to  a  fine 
repast.  This  was  unexpected  to  me;  though  I  did 
justice  to  both  food  and  wine,  as  did  mine  host  and 
comely  hostess.  The  Hungarian  wine  caused  me  to 
lose  my  head ;  certainly  to  unloose  my  tongue.  I  told 
them  of  innumerable  deeds  of  valor  in  the  Holy  Land, 
some  of  which  were  entirely  creations  of  my  imagina- 
tion, and  which  I  have  since  wholly  forgotten.  I  also 
sang  warlike  songs  and  played  the  fool  in  everything, 
though  my  smiling  hostess  most  graciously  applauded 
to  the  last.  All  the  while  I  noticed  a  ragged  boy  sitting 
by  the  fire,  giving  it  his  constant  attention  that  he 
might  keep  it  alive  that  cold  night.  He  stared  at  me 


110          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

with  his  big  black  eyes  and  listened  eagerly  to  my 
wonderful  tales  and  ballads.  This  lad  had  attended  to 
my  horse  on  my  arrival,  likewise  performed  several 
menial  offices  about  the  house,  which  facts  had  not  es- 
caped my  notice.  I  felt  grieved  for  him.  Not  until 
the  advancing  hours  of  the  morning  did  mine  host  and 
hostess  retire.  As  the  boy  was  still  awake,  I  concluded 
that  in  all  probability  his  resting  place  would  be  before 
the  embers  of  the  dying  fire.  When  I  had  reached 
my  bedroom,  I  heard  the  woman,  whose  chamber  was 
next  to  mine,  repeatedly  call  the  poor  fellow,  Kurt. 
Very  soon  after,  becoming  aware  of  a  commotion  in 
the  hall,  and  opening  my  door,  I  beheld  the  old  man 
in  the  act  of  pulling  him  by  the  hair,  while  his  wife 
was  vigorously  laying  a  stick  across  his  back.  After 
this  they  jointly  kicked  him  down  the  stairs.  At  the 
moment  I  was  very  drowsy  and  felt  too  cold  to 
interfere  with  their  proceedings,  so  got  to  bed  as  quick- 
ly as  possible.  I  must  have  slept  heavily  for  some 
hours,  when,  about  daylight,  I  was  aroused  by  a  tre- 
mendous clatter  in  my  apartment.  Sitting  up,  I  dis- 
cerned by  the  dim  light  of  dawn,  the  boy  Kurt  standing 
by  the  table  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  holding  my 
heavy  sword  in  his  small  kancl.  He  had  picked  it  up, 
apparently  ignorant  of  its  weight,  and  knocked  it  heav- 
ily upon  my  armor,  which  I  had  placed  on  a  stool. 
This  aroused  me.  The  boy  stood  motionless,  his  eyes 


THE  BANQUET.  Ill 

wide  open  and  staring  at  me,  his  face  as  pale  as  death. 
At  first  I  was  confounded,  but  after  a  moment's  effort 
in  collecting  my  senses,  I  asked  him  what  he 
wanted.  There  was  no  answer.  Very  reluctantly  I 
got  out  of  bed  and  approached  him,  placing  my  hand 
on  his  shoulder  and  speaking  to  him  again.  Still  there 
was  no  response.  He  remained  standing,  his  eyes 
fixed  upon  me.  Finally,  I  grasped  his  disengaged 
hand.  As  I  did  so,  a  sudden  tremor  convulsed  his 
body.  The  sword  fell  from  his  hand  once  more,  crash- 
ing against  the  armor.  He  then  sank  moaning  to  the 
floor.  A  moment  later  he  looked  at  me  with  a  more 
natural  expression  and  asked  where  he  was.  Raising 
him  up,  I  told  him  that  he  was  in  my  room.  'How 
did  I  come  here  ?"  he  anxiously  inquired. 

"  That  is  more  than  I  can  tell,'  I  answered,  'save 
that  thou  earnest  unbidden  through  the  door,  which  I 
left  unlocked.'  The  boy  meditated  a  moment,  then 
suddenly  cried :  'I  know,  I  have  been  walking  in  my 
sleep  again.  Oh,  sir ;  good  Sir  Knight,  please  do  not 
tell  them  anything  about  it — they  will  beat  me  most 
unmercifully.' 

'"Who  will  beat  thee?'  I  asked. 

"  'My  father  and  my  stepmother,'  he  replied. 

"Ere  he  had  pronounced  those  words,  he  uttered  a 
cry  of  despair.  His  stepmother  stood  in  the  door- 
way, looking  furiously  at  him.  Possibly  the  noise  had 


112         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

attracted  her  to  my  room ;  but  before  approaching,  she 
had  taken  care  to  attire  herself  most  becomingly.  She 
had  evidently  overheard  my  conversation  with  Kurt, 
for  she  did  not  question  him,  but  boldly  advanced  and 
proceeded  to  lead  the  trembling  boy  from  the  room  by 
the  ear. 

"Regardless  of  my  personal  appearance,  though  shak- 
ing with  the  cold,  I  was  at  his  side  in  a  moment.  Bow- 
ing to  the  lady  in  her  white  frills  and  blue  ribbons,  I 
begged  her  to  leave  the  lad  with  me,  as  I  wanted  to 
read  him  a  lecture,  after  which  I  would  deliver  him  to 
her.  Smiling  sweetly,  she  agreed  to  my  proposition 
and  left  the  room.  I  bolted  the  door  after  her  and 
quickly  got  back  under  the  bed  clothes.  It  was  some 
time  before  my  chattering  teeth  allowed  me  to  speak, 
but  when  I  did,  I  told  the  boy  to  take  a  seat  near 
me.  In  great  trepidation  the  poor  fellow  seated  him- 
self. I  soon  reassured  him  and  bade  him  tell  me  his 
history.  I  learned  that  he  had  led  a  miserable  life  for 
some  years  past.  His  mother  had  died  and  his  father 
had  married  again,  ever  since  which  event  they  had 
grievously  maltreated  him.  'I  must  have  walked  in 
my  sleep,  Sir  Knight,'  said  he,  'because  I  was  dream- 
ing of  those  exciting  stories  you  told.  I  remember 
nothing  else  about  it.  For  a  long  time  I  have  not 
been  thus  guilty  of  wandering  about  at  night,  my 
father  and  mother  having  beaten  it  out  of  me.' 


THE  BANQUET.  113 

"I  greatly  pitied  the  poor  lad,  and  suddenly  be- 
thought of  taking  him  into  my  service. 

"When  I  proposed  it  to  him,  he  was  beside  himself 
with  joy,  but  told  me  that  he  felt  sure  that  his  father 
would  not  consent  to  it.  I  agreed  with  the  lad;  and 
sooner  than  make  more  trouble  considered  whether 
there  were  not  some  way  by  which  I  might  secretly  ab- 
duct him.  During  the  recital  of  his  woes  he  had  stated, 
that,  every  morning,  before  any  one  had  arisen,  he  rode 
on  old  horse  to  market,  returning  after  breakfast.  I 
instructed  him  to  take  the  best  horse  in  his  father's 
stable,  and  to  wait  for  me  a  mile  down  the  road,  con- 
cealed in  the  bushes,  and  keeping  a  good  lookout.  Day 
was  dawning  as  we  concluded  our  arrangements.  Soon 
after,  on  looking  out  of  my  window,  I  had  the  satisfac- 
tion of  seeing  him  start,  riding  a  fine  young  horse. 
Feeling  somewhat  chilly,  I  went  back  to  bed, 
and  naturally  enough  fell  asleep  again ;  so  it  was 
late  when  I  met  my  hostess  at  breakfast.  She  seemed 
a  little  embarrassed,  but  as  nothing  was  said  about  our 
night's  adventures,  made  herself  very  agreeable  to  me ; 
while  her  husband  sat  opposite  with  eyes  closed  and 
his  head  resting  on  his  hand. 

"As  the  hour  for  Kurt's  return  had  long  since  past, 
she  expressed  her  wonder  at  his  long  absence.  In- 
wardly I  chuckled :  'What  will  ye  say,  ye  evil  people, 

8 


114         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

when  ye  find  that  your  son  is  gone,  and  with  him  the 
best  horse  from  the  stable?' 

"At  last,  bidding  my  host  and  hostess  farewell,  I  sad- 
dled my  own  steed  and  departed.  Half  an  hour's  ride 
brought  me  to  where  the  patient  boy  lay  in  hiding. 
He  joined  me,  mounted  on  a  beautiful  horse  of  the 
best  Hungarian  breed.  He  had  been  anxiously  wait- 
ing for  me  for  many  hours.  Luckily  I  had  brought 
with  me  plenty  of  provisions  for  the  day.  The  hungry 
lad,  who  had  had  no  breakfast,  satisfied  himself  to  his 
heart's  content,  and  realizing  that  he  was  leaving  his 
tormentors  farther  and  farther  behind,  made  his  horse 
caper  and  prance  along  the  road,  in  his  exhilaration. 
That  valuable  little  steed,  fair  ladies  and  kind  sirs,  is 
now  my  property,  and  ridden  by  Kurt,  who  is  my  de- 
voted page.  This  ends  my  story,  and  I  hope  no  one 
will  blame  me  for  abducting  both  lad  and  horse, 
though  I  fear  my  merry  host  and  hostess  thought  it  an 
ill  return  for  their  hospitality." 

Laughing  comments  greeted  this  story.  Goblets 
were  refilled,  and  a  veteran  knight,  a  near  neighbor 
and  staunch  friend  of  the  Falkenstein  household,  arose 
to  propose  the  health  of  "the  Duke  and  Duchess,  ex- 
emplary in  all  things,  beloved  and  honored  by  all  their 
friends  and  subjects ;  may  they  live  to  rule  this  goodly 
land  for  many  years  to  come." 


THE  BANQUET.  115 

The  Duke  made  his  acknowledgments  in  words 
which  went  to  every  heart ;  while  the  Duchess,  before 
touching  her  cup  with  her  lips,  smiled  benignly  across 
the  table  at  Ursula  and  Conrad. 

Duke  Henry  then  requested  an  old  minstrel  with 
flowing  white  hair  and  silvery  beard,  who  sat  near 
him,  to  sing.  This  hale  and  hearty  bard  of  four  score 
years  had  been  Wolfram's  teacher.  Though  the  pupil 
had  long  since  outdone  the  master,  his  song  was  list- 
ened to  with  sympathetic  attention,  and  roundly  ap- 
plauded. 

Once  more,  upon  request,  he  sang  in  a  trembling, 
yet  still  rich  bass  voice;  this  time  it  was  a  favorite 
air  of  the  Princess,  in  which  at  the  last  stanza,  Wol- 
fram joined  with  his  thrilling  tenor.  The  latter  left 
his  seat,  goblet  in  hand,  and  approached  his  old  pre- 
ceptor. Touching  cups  with  him,  he  said:  "Thou 
didst  teach  me  that  song,  old  friend,  for  which  I  bless 
thee ;  and,  should  I  survive,  when  thou  art  gone  to  the 
land  of  eternal  song  beyond,  I  shall  sing  it, 
aye,  to  my  dying  day,  in  honor  of  her  whom  we  both 
admire  and  love  so  well." 

This  delicate  compliment  of  Wolfram's  did  not  es- 
cape Ursula,  nor  did  the  guests  fail  to  catch  its  mean- 
ing ;  so  with  one  accord  they  arose,  shouting :  "Long 
live  the  Princess  and  her  worthy  minstrels,  the  famous 
master  and  twice  famous  pupil !" 


116          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

To  put  an  end  to  further  toasting  Wolfram  quickly 
resumed  his  seat  and  began  one  of  his  merriest  songs, 
creating  general  hilarity  and  well-nigh  bringing  a  very 
corpulent  knight  to  an  untimely  end  by  causing  him 
to  choke  with  laughter. 

This  being  happily  averted,  the  banquet  ended  with 
an  ancient  Teutonic  song,  led  by  the  old  minstrel,  in 
the  chorus  of  which  everyone  joined. 

After  nightfall  they  all  assembled  on  the  terrace  in 
the  rear  of  the  palace,  from  which  broad  steps  led 
down  to  the  garden  walks. 

The  Duchess  was  there  on  her  invalid  couch,  the 
Duke,  Ursula,  Conrad  and  Wolfram  standing  near, 
watching  the  dark  moonlight  shadows  on  the  velvety 
grass. 

All  were  in  sympathy  with  the  beauty  of  the  hour. 
They  felt  drawn  to  each  other,  these  lovers,  young  and 
old. 

Wolfram  had  sent  for  Kurt  and  then  immediately 
dismissed  him  from  his  mind.  Suddenly,  however, 
the  boy  appeared  before  him. 

"Ah,  here  thou  art,"  said  Wolfram.  "I  sent  for  thee 
to  ask  why  thou,  in  today's  race,  didst  pull  back  thy 
horse,  and  allow  that  pale-faced  lad  to  snatch  the 
prize  from  thee?  This  is  not  at  all  like  my  gallant 
page  Kurt.  I  feel  ashamed  of  him." 


THE  BANQUET.  117 

"I  am  sorry  to  have  displeased  you,  Sir  Knight," 
answered  the  boy,  "but  I  had  a  good  reason  for  doing 
what  I  did,  which,  by  your  leave,  I  would  rather  not 
give." 

"I  wish  to  know  it,"  replied  the  minstrel.  "Thou 
needst  not  be  afraid  of  anyone  here ;  the  Princess  and 
Knight  Conrad  are  well  disposed  toward  thee.  Thou 
surely  wert  not  afraid  of  thy  horse's  behavior !  I  know 
thee  better  than  that." 

"No,  Sir  Knight,"  answered  the  boy,  blushing  crim- 
son ;  "th'ere  is  another  reason." 

"Then  tell  it,"  said  his  master.    "I  insist." 

"If  I  must,  I  will,"  said  Kurt,  after  a  momentary 
pause.  "My  friend  who  won  the  race  is  but  a  sickly 
youth ;  his  father  is  dead ;  his  mother  is  very  poor  and 
entirely  dependent  upon  him.  The  Princess  knows 
her  and  has  frequently  helped  her  in  her  many  mis- 
fortunes. The  race  was  for  a  money  stake.  He  need- 
ed it,  while  I  did  not" — here  the  boy  hesitated. 

"How  now!"  exclaimed  his  master;  "hast  thou  so 
much  money  then?" 

"No,  my  lord,"  replied  Kurt,  "but  you  are  good  to 
me,  and  I  have  no  mother  to  care  for  me,  or  to  de- 
pend on  me  for  support." 

"Thou  didst  a  good  action,  my  boy,"  said  Wolfram ; 
"but  if  thou  wouldst  get  along  in  the  world,  have  not 
too  soft  a  heart.  I  can,  however,  but  approve  of  what 


118          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

thou  hast  done  in  this  case,"  he  added,  patting  the 
boy's  head ;  "and  now,  go  and  take  good  care  of  thy 
brave  little  horse  and  also  mine." 

Conrad  detained  Kurt  and  drew  Wolfram  aside. 
After  a  few  minutes'  conversation  with  the  minstrel, 
he  asked  the  boy  if  he  would  be  willing  to  leave  his 
benefactor's  employ  and  enter  his  service.  "Thy  mas- 
ter tells  me  that  he  needs  a  full-grown  and  stronger 
man,  and  is  willing  to  let  thee  go." 

The  surprised  lad  regarded  first  his  master  and  then 
Conrad.  He  had  already  learned  to  look  upon  our 
hero  as  the  noblest  and  bravest  knight  in  all  Christen- 
dom ;  yet  he  felt  greatly  attached  to  the  minstrel. 

He  did  not  answer  the  young  knight's  question,  but 
looking  rather  pleased  than  otherwise,  stood  scratch- 
ing his  head  in  rustic  perplexity.  Wolfram,  noticing 
his  quandary,  and  at  the  same  time  his  beaming  face, 
said :  "I  am  sorry  to  lose  thee,  Kurt ;  but  as  my  good 
friend  here  is  in  need  of  an  attendant,  I  cannot  wish 
him  a  better  one.  Do  thou  by  him  as  thou  hast  done 
by  me."  Kurt  made  no  reply.  He  merely  kissed  the 
minstrel's  hand  and  withdrew. 

Ursula,  who  had  been  a  silent  and  interested  wit- 
ness, now  turned  to  Conrad,  saying:  "I  am  glad,  Sir 
Knight,  for  thy  sake,  that  thou  hast  secured  this  lad. 
I  have  a  great  regard  for  him,  and  am  sure  thou  hast 
gained  in  him  a  devoted  follower." 


THE  BANQUET.  ,    119 

She  took  his  arm  and  led  him  down  the  terrace 
steps  into  the  garden.  Thence  they  continued  their 
way  across  the  drawbridge  down  a  romantic  path, 
which  soon  brought  them  to  a  leaping  rivulet,  across 
which  the  trees  cast  their  shadows  in  the  pale  moon- 
light. 

Conrad  looked  at  the  beautiful  woman  walking  by 
his  side.  He  felt  his  heart  strongly  drawn  toward 
her ;  yet  strange  to  say,  at  that  very  moment  Rosalie's 
sweet  image  arose  before  him,  and  he  fell  into  a 
thoughtful  silence. 

Ursula,  imagining  that  her  own  abstraction  and 
want  of  sympathy  were  the  cause  of  her  companion's 
moodiness,  made  an  effort  to  rouse  her  faculties  to 
entertain  and  please  him. 

Hugo's  fleeting  appearance,  his  few  murmured 
words,  had  made  a  deeper  impression  than  all  her 
champion's  gallant  words  and  deeds.  The  thought 
that,  as  the  son  of  their  greatest  enemy,  he  would  prob- 
ably never  again  cross  her  path,  sent  a  pang  of  regret 
to  her  heart.  She  remembered,  however,  what  she 
owed  to  the  young  knight  at  her  side.  He  had  freed 
her  father  from  imprisonment.  He  had  released  her 
from  the  persecutions  of  an  unwelcome  suitor.  She  ad- 
mired his  courage  and  noble  character.  Furthermore, 
she  felt  a  partiality  for  him  which  she  was  not  able  to 
account  for,  even  to  herself.  So  long  as  Hugo's  image 


120  .       KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

remained  in  her  thoughts,  however,  she  could  not  give 
her  heart  outright.  Yet  so  deeply  did  she  sympathize 
with  Conrad  in  his  homeless,  kinless  condition,  that 
she  felt  inwardly  disposed,  if  possible,  to  banish  Hugo, 
the  intruder,  from  her  heart. 

Having  arrived  at  this  disposition,  she  at  once  pro- 
ceeded to  use  her  wonderful  gifts  in  pleasing  her  com- 
panion, to  which  no  one  could  remain  long  indifferent. 

They  wandered  on  to  the  valley,  under  the  listening 
willows,  whose  fantastic  shapes  grew  more  weird  in  the 
deepening  shades  of  night. 

She  had  gathered  some  forget-me-nots  and  now 
handed  them  to  Conrad,  asking  him  to  keep  them  in 
remembrance  of  their  walk.  As  she  did  this,  she 
looked  into  his  face  with  sucji  affectionate  gratitude 
and  sympathy  that  he  would  fain  have  thrown  himself 
at  her  feet  and  declared  his  love.  That  danger  past, 
their  conversation  turned  on  his  brother,  brought  up  at 
Falkenstein,  who,  as  she  admitted,  had  been  her  favor- 
ite of  all  her  father's  squires.  She  then  questioned 
him  as  to  his  past  life  and  adventures. 

To  these  questions  Conrad  gave  graphic  and  enthu- 
siastic answers,  bringing  some  of  the  exciting  past 
vividly  before  the  eyes  of  his  deeply  interested  listener. 
By  the  time  they  had  retraced  their  steps  to  the  draw- 
bridge, she  had  so  far  worked  herself  into  his  heart  that 
the  misgivings  of  Rosalie  came  well-nigh  being  justi- 


THE  BANQUET.  121 

fied ;  but  again  that  night,  as  the  image  of  that  sweet 
child  presented  itself  to  him,  he  felt  that  his  whole  heart 
had  not  yet  gone  out  to  Ursula;  nor  did  he  imagine 
that  the  love  which  the  noble,  tender-hearted  Princess 
had  shown  for  him  was  other  than  the  affection  of  a 
sympathizing  and  grateful  friend.  Musing  thus  he  fell 
peacefully  asleep. 


122          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

TRUE  LOVE. 

"The  mountain  rill 

Seeks  with  no  surer  flow  the  far,  bright  sea, 
Than  my  unchanged  affections  flow  to  thee." 

— Benjamin. 

On  the  day  following  the  great  festival,  many  of  the 
guests  separated  for  their  respective  destinations. 
Toward  evening  Conrad  and  Ursula  went  for  another 
stroll,  a  repetition  of  the  last,  with  this  difference,  that 
this  time  they  avoided  all  romantic  topics.  Later, 
they  repaired  to  the  hall,  where  they  found  the  Duke 
and  Duchess  and  Wolfram,  who  sang  to  their  great 
delight.  Presently  Ursula  sang  to  her  own  accompani- 
ment, with  a  melodious  but  not  powerful  voice,  yet 
with  so  much  feeling  and  expression  that  Conrad  was 
deeply  stirred.  Several  days  of  serene  enjoyment 
passed  swiftly  by,  the  week  ending,  as  we  have  already 
seen,  with  the  coming  of  Saladin  from  Waldhorst 
Castle. 

On  the  morning  following  Saladin's  arrival  the  gal- 
lant young  knight  presented  the  noble  steed  to  Ursula. 


TRUE  LOVE.  123 

At  first  she  hesitated  to  accept  so  valuable  a  gift,  but 
finally  consented  to  do  so,  at  the  earnest  and  repeated 
solicitations  of  her  persistent  and  devoted  champion. 
He  rode,  instead,  the  fiery  charger  which  had  served 
him  so  well  in  the  tournament.  Together  they  can- 
tered over  hill  and  dale,  enjoying  every  passing  mo- 
ment. 

At  times  they  would  go  on  some  mission  of  charity ; 
at  others,  on  a  visit  to  a  neighboring  castle.  Kurt  al- 
ways accompanied  them,  astride  of  his  own  good  Hun- 
garian, presented  to  him  by  his  former  master  at  their 
parting.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  happiness  of  the 
boy  in  his  new  service.  He  adored  the  Princess  as 
though  she  were  a  saint;  while  Conrad,  as  we  well 
know,  was  his  ideal  of  knighthood.  Wherever 
they  stopped,  whether  at  the  poor  man's  hut,  or 
at  the  castle  of  the  rich  Baron,  he  was  at  their  horses' 
heads  as  they  dismounted.  A  month  thus  passed, 
while  the  Princess'  admiration  for  her  companion 
daily  increased.  He  would  surely  have  satisfied  her 
highest  ideal  of  manhood,  had  it  not  been  for  those 
fleeting  glances  exchanged  with  that  dark-eyed  youth. 

Conrad  seemed  under  an  unconscious  spell  while 
in  her  presence,  the  image  of  Rosalie  growing  fainter 
day  by  day. 

It  was  during  their  rides  that  Conrad  learned  the 
goodness  and  tenderness  of  Ursula's  heart,  and  he 


124          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

loved  her  for  those  qualities  as  much  as  for  her  beauty 
and  accomplishments.  At  one  time  she  might  be  seen 
on  Saladin,  performing  deeds  of  fearless  horseman- 
ship ;  at  another,  soothing  the  sick  and  dying  with  her 
tender  ministrations. 

Although  nearly  two  months  had  passed  without  a 
word  of  love  having  been  spoken  by  Conrad,  he  had 
become  in  the  eyes  of  the  little  world  around  the  ac- 
cepted lover  of  the  Princess  Ursula.  He  had  on  oc- 
casions declared  himself  her  devoted  knight,  was  ever 
at  her  side,  ready  at  all  times  to  do  her  bidding;  and 
Ursula,  as  little  as  she  was  aware  of  it  herself,  could 
not  have  borne  his  absence  for  a  day. 

While  Cupid  was  sowing  the  seeds  of  love  deeply 
in  their  hearts,  memory  planted  little  tares.  The 
young,  dark-eyed  hunter  could  not  be  entirely  for- 
gotten on  the  one  hand ;  on  the  other,  Rosalie  would 
ever  and  anon  assert  herself  most  unexpectedly. 

Had  fate  decreed  to  separate  these  two  young  beings 
it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  their  remembrance  of 
the  other  two  would  have  died  away  and  been  replaced 
by  their  mutual  longing  for  ea^h  other ;  now,  however, 
they  were  somehow  a  constant  menace. 

Thus  the  summer  sped  away  almost  imperceptibly, 
the  dying  leaves  telling  of  its  departure  in  their  noise- 
less descent,  seeking  rest  on  the  peaceful  lap  of  Mother 
Earth ;  significant  to  Ursula's  mind  of  some  of  the  worn 


TRUE  LOVE.  125 

and  weary  souls  which,  in  that  autumnal  season,  would 
shed  their  withered  bodies  and  rise  to  find  eternal  rest 
with  God. 

As  the  days  gradually  shortened,  there  were  fre- 
quent intervals  of  rain  and  storm.  These,  however, 
did  not  dampen  the  spirits  of  the  indefatigable  Wol- 
fram. He  came  the  oftener  from  his  neighboring  cas- 
tle, ^enlivening  the  evenings  with  story  and  song.  His 
friendship  for  Conrad  grew  stronger  each  day,  al- 
though he  could  not  fail  to  notice  the  apparent  un- 
derstanding existing  between  the  beautiful  woman  he 
adored  and  the  gallant  youth  whom  he  had  taken  to 
his  heart  as  a  brother. 

At  last,  one  evening,  Conrad  was  sitting  with  Ursula 
in  the  recess  of  a  window  in  one  of  the  lower  rooms  of 
the  palace.  A  flood  of  brilliant  moonlight  with  its 
soft  radiance  illumined  the  expressive  countenance  of 
the  Princess.  Each  seemed  to  feel  that  a  beautiful  and 
sublime  moment  of  life  was  at  hand,  the  memory  of 
which  would  last  forever.  They  had  become  aware 
that  they  were  essential  to  each  other's  happiness, 
though  the  tares  still  grew  in  their  Garden  of  Eden. 
Then  Conrad,  on  bended  knee,  told  his  love  with  all  the 
fervency  and  pathos  which  he  could  command.  Ur- 
sula gently  bade  him  rise,  sit  beside  her,  and  listen. 

Placing  her  soft,  white  hand  in  his,  and  raising  her 
beautiful  appealing  eyes  to  his  face,  she  said:  "My 


126          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

own  true  friend !  my  noble,  valiant  and  gallant  knight ! 
need  I  tell  thee  that  I  love  thee?  Thou  knowest  it! 
and  yet,  to  love  thee  as  I  ought,  in  order  to  guard 
forever  thy  happiness  and  mine  is  a  matter  of  great 
moment.  It  involves  everything  in  this  world;  aye, 
that  our  heaven  shall  begin  here,  on  earth,  to  last 
throughout  eternity.  Do  I  love  thee  sufficiently  for 
this?  I  have  my  misgivings.  How  is  it  with  thee? 
Dost  thou  not  feel  as  I  do  ?  Thou  need'st  not  answer 
me.  I  have  read  thy  heart  even  as  thou  hast  read  mine. 
Let  us  then,  for  each  other's  sake,  wait  a  season  longer. 
If  in  another  year,  or  sooner,  we  find  that  we  can  be  all 
in  all  to  each  other,  be  it  so.  I  shall  hail  the  day  as  the 
happiest  of  my  life ;  because  I  shall  know  from  that  mo- 
ment that  thou  canst  trust  thy  happiness  to  my  keep- 
ing." 

Conrad,  imprinting  a  tender  kiss  upon  the  hand  he 
held,  replied:  "My  adored  one,  what  shall  I  say? 
Rather  would  I  die  at  this  very  moment  than  run  any 
risk  of  causing  thee  unhappiness  or  even  one  mo- 
ment's regret!  Let  us  wait  then,  and  hope,  trusting 
in  each  other,  and  in  God."  He  arose,  still  holding  her 
hand,  and  pressed  his  lips  ever  so  gently  to  her  burn- 
ing cheek.  They  thus  arrived  at  an  understanding  full 
of  mutual  trust. 

After  that  evening  nothing  unusual  occurred  at  the 
Castle  of  Falkenstein.  Conrad  daily  exercised  with  his 


TRUE  LOVE.  127 

sword.  Later  on,  as  the  season  for  the  chase  came 
near,  he  practiced  at  target  shooting  with  the  cross- 
bow. 

One  evening  toward  the  end  of  September,  Duke 
Henry  announced  his  purpose  of  starting  within  a  few 
days  on  his  annual  hunting  expedition  to  the  Black 
Forest,  and  desired  Conrad  to  hold  himself  in  readi- 
ness to  accompany  him.  In  subsequent  discussions 
of  the  matter  they  learned  to  their  delight  that  Ursula 
had  determined  to  ride  with  them  as  far  as  the  Bene- 
dictine Monastery.  Her  object  which,  as  yet,  she  kept 
secret  from  Conrad,  was  to  visit  Rosalie  at  the  Con- 
vent of  St.  Agnes,  not  only  that  she  might  see  and 
know  her,  but  for  the  sake  of  her  own  future  peace 
of  mind. 

A  few  days  thereafter,  on  a  bracing  September  morn- 
ing, amid  the  blowing  of  horns  and  barking  of  hounds, 
the  Duchess  from  her  window  waved  a  farewell  to 
Ursula,  mounted  on  Saladin,  and  the  ever-faithful 
Conrad  at  her  side. 

"God  bless  them,"  murmured  the  Duchess,  as  her 
heart  swelled  with  pride  on  noting  their  handsome 
bearing.  The  Duke  waved  his  hand  to  his  wife  in  sa- 
lute, as  soon  after  he  also  crossed  the  drawbridge,  fol- 
lowed by  some  twenty  well-equipped  attendants  and 
the  dogs. 


128         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

Conrad  looked  into  his  companion's  face.  He 
marked  her  color  heightening  in  the  bracing  wind,  as 
it  blew  back  from  her  forehead  the  luxuriant  hair. 
With  her  nostrils  slightly  dilated,  her  eyes  turned 
heavenward,  he  could  but  compare  her  to  one  of  the 
goddesses,  who  were  supposed  to  come  to  earth  for 
the  sole  purpose  of  bewitching  mankind. 

When,  after  eight  hours  riding,  the  spires  of  the 
convent  appeared  in  the  distance,  Rosalie  once  again 
for  a  moment  claimed  our  young  knight's  wandering 
thoughts. 

She,  poor  child,  had  been  immured  for  more  than 
four  months  in  a  state  of  utter  ignorance  as  to  the  out- 
side world,  until  a  few  weeks  before  this  stage  of  our 
story.  Then,  in  spite  of  all  the  vigilance  of  the  Ab- 
bess, the  news  of  Conrad's  victory  at  the  tournaments 
and  his  prolonged  stay  at  Falkenstein  had  somehow 
reached  her  ears. 

It  was  nearly  dark  when  the  travelers  halted  at  a 
newly  erected  inn,  not  far  from  the  ferry  by  which,  on 
the  following  day,  they  would  cross  the  river  to  the 
hunting  grounds.  The  landlord  was  placed  on  his 
mettle  in  making  such  distinguished  guests  comfort- 
able. Ursula,  being  fatigued  from  her  long  ride,  re- 
tired early. 

Seated  before  a  blazing  fire  of  logs,  the  Duke  and 
Conrad  listened  to  the  innkeeper's  voluble  talk. 


Conrad  looked  into  his  companion's  face. 


TRUE  LOVE.  129 

Among  other  things  they  learned  that  some  three 
months  before,  while  the  peasants  and  mechanics  were 
at  work  building  his  inn,  ghosts  were  frequently  seen 
at  the  ruins  of  Grunau  Castle ;  but  that,  of  late,  they 
seemed  to  have  disappeared.  Nevertheless  the  peas- 
antry still  remained  in  mortal  terror  of  the  place,  none 
of  them  daring  to  enter  it  after  dark. 

"I  went  there  myself  one  night,  however,"  he  con- 
tinued, "and  satisfied  myself  that  the  ghosts  are  living 
flesh  and  bones,  and  the  jolliest  of  their  kind.  I  in- 
formed the  workmen  of  my  discovery,  but  they  did 
not  believe  me,  so  I  left  them  to  their  superstition." 

"What  saw  you  there?"  asked  Conrad,  becoming 
much  interested. 

"With  your  leave,  good  sirs,  I  will  tell  you  all  that 
happened,"  replied  the  man.  "On  my  arrival  here, 
before  I  was  comfortably  quartered  in  this  house,  I 
used  to  wander  about  late  wondering  at  the  strange 
apparitions.  One  night  I  walked  up  the  hill  as  far  as 
the  garden  in  the  rear  of  the  monastery.  On  arriving 
there,  I  entered  the  open  gate.  There  were  lights  mov- 
ing about,  and  there  was  revelry  in  the  rear  Buildings. 
Before  I  could  account  for  this  strange  revelation,  a 
back  door  suddenly  opened.  Over  a  score  of  figures 
in  flowing  white  robes,  carrying  lights,  stole  forth  into 
the  night.  I  quickly  hid  myself  behind  a  tree  to  watch 

them.    They  crossed  the  garden,  halted  before  a  wall 
9 


130          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

very  near  the  spot  where  I  stood,  and  opening  a  trap- 
door, disappeared  underground,  one  by  one.  I  was 
utterly  nonplussed.  While  revolving  the  matter  in 
my  mind,  I  stepped  out  upon  the  hillside,  overlook- 
ing the  landscape  shrouded  with  night.  Glancing  aim- 
lessly around,  I  discovered  the  usual  lights  in  the  ruins 
of  Grunau.  It  instantly  occurred  to  me  that  they  were 
the  same  that  I  had  just  seen  at  the  monastery.  I  ran 
down  the  hill,  and  climbed  up  a  breach  in  the  rear  of 
the  ruined  battlements.  Looking  down  into  the  ban- 
quet room,  I  saw  the  same  figures  in  white  engaged  in 
various  freaks,  flaunting  their  lights  in  all  directions. 
This  was  indeed  a  revelation;  but  I  deemed  it  expe- 
dient to  get  away  unperceived,  and  to  keep  my  own 
counsel  as  to  what  I  had  seen  and  heard.  The  Abbot 
is  certainly  a  holy  man,  but,  as  you  may  know,  likes 
his  fun  at  times.  I  thought  it  would  do  no  harm,  kind 
sirs,  to  relate  my  discovery  to  you." 

Conrad  was  much  amused  at  his  narrative.  He  in 
turn  related  his  own  experiences  in  the  banquet  hall 
some  four  months  previous.  The  Duke,  expressing 
his  astonishment  at  having  slept  through  all  those 
ghostly  performances,  determined,  at  the  first  oppor- 
tunity, to  take  the  Abbot  to  task  for  that  night's 
doings.  The  ghost  stories  being  ended,  they  retired 
to  their  comfortable  quarters. 


TRUE  LOVE.     .  131 

Early  next  morning  the  Duke  and  Conrad  went  to 
examine  the  ruins.  As  soon  as  they  were  out  of  sight 
Ursula  wended  her  way  to  the  Convent  of  St.  Agnes. 

At  the  dilapidated  castle  our  friends  found  on  inves- 
tigation that  through  the  closets  in  the  banquet  hall 
a  rear  platform  giving  access  to  the  panels  could  be 
reached.  On  the  back  of  the  portraits  they  discovered 
skillfully  designed  slides  and  incisions,  by  which  their 
features  might  be  moved  aside  and  human  faces  in- 
serted instead.  By  means  of  larger  slides  the  entire 
older  picture  of  the  master  of  Grunau  might  be 
brought  back  to  view.  The  suits  of  mail,  fitted  on  the 
wooden  figures,  could  easily  be  removed  and  donned 
by  anyone  wishing  to  assume  the  guise  of  a  spectre 
sentinel.  As  for  the  appearance  of  the  Abbot's  image, 
it  was  only  left  to  them  to  conjecture  that  the  old  pre- 
late, being  versed  in  occult  sciences,  as  were  most  of 
the  priests  of  that  day,  had  produced  the  spectral  il- 
lusion. The  causes  of  the  apparitions  and  the  unearth- 
ly noises  on  that  memorable  night  being  thus  account- 
ed for,  it  was  very  clear  to  Conrad's  mind  that  a  clever 
practical  joke  had  been  played  upon  him,  under  the 
leadership  of  the  Abbot ;  and  he  expressed  his  willing- 
ness to  aid  his  friend,  the  Duke,  in  chastising  his  holi- 
ness for  his  share  of  the  spectacle. 

They  forthwith  proceeded  to  the  monastery,  where 
they  were  joyfully  greeted  by  the  reverend  father, 


132          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

whose  nose  was,  if  anything,  redder  than  ever.  The 
Duke  immediately  began  to  banter  him  about  the 
spectral  manifestations  at  the  ruins,  inquiring  of  his 
reverence  if  he  had  ever  made  the  acquaintance  of  the 
disreputable  characters  who  infested  the  dilapidated 
building  at  night.  "Don't  speak  of  them,  my  lord," 
answered  the  Abbot,  who  had  noted  a  quizzical  ex- 
pression in  his  friend's  face,  "they  have  kept  me  awake 
many  a  night;  and  should  they  trouble  me  again,  I 
shall  find  means  for  banishing  them  forever.  It  is  as- 
tonishing," he  added,  his  eyes  twinkling  mischievously 
as  he  laid  his.  finger  beside  his  jolly  nose,  "how  fond 
they  are  of  my  wine-cellar,  which,  to  say  the  least, 
shows  shockingly  unbecoming  taste  in  residents  of  the 
spirit  world ;  but  of  late  I  have  kept  my  cellar  locked, 
and  shall  keep  its  contents  for  such  excellent  friends 
as  thou,  noble  Duke  and  valiant  Knight.  But,"  he  re- 
sumed, more  seriously,  specially  addressing  himself  to 
Conrad,  "if  those  ghosts  have  ever  appeared  to  thee, 
Sir  Knight,  and  informed  thee  concerning  the  destruc- 
tion of  yonder  castle  and  the  abduction  of  a  little  girl, 
they  have  told  the  truth.  I  myself  saw  it  all.  My 
brother  died  in  my  arms,  and  I  trust  his  murderer  may 
be  punished  for  his  crimes,  although,"  he  added,  cross- 
ing himself,  "it  is  not  for  me  to  judge."  "I  heard  that 
story,  holy  father,"  answered  Conrad,  laughing,  "on 
the  night  when  the  Duke  and  I  slept  in  the  banquet 


TRUE  LOVE.  133 

hall,  I  was  there  made  to  swear  vengeance  against 
Count  Hans  for  that  particular  deed  of  his,  which  does 
not  concern  me  in  the  least.  Those  goblin  freaks 
were  evidently  intended  to  impress  me  more  than  they 
did ;  yet  I  must  confess  I  thought  I  saw  the  veritable 
ghost  of  the  Baron  von  Grunau,  although,  when  it 
threatened  me,  I  called  it  'an  old  fossil/  Nevertheless 
I  took  the  oath ;  not  that  it  matters,  for  it  is  but  one  of 
the  many  vows  I  have  made  to  punish  Hans  von  Wald- 
horst." 

"We  shall  be  sure  to  meet  him  in  the  Black  Forest," 
interposed  the  Duke ;  "but  thou  must  promise  me  to 
leave  him  first  to  my  tender  mercies.  I  would  teach 
him  a  lesson  which  he  shall  never  forget.  Should  I 
fail  in  doing  it  effectually,  then,  Conrad,  thou  shalt  see 
that  the  madman  be  rendered  incapable  of  further  mis- 
chief." To  this  Conrad  assented. 

"May  God  and  the  Holy  Virgin  be  with  you  both," 
said  the  Abbot,  "and  preserve  you  from  harm.  I  trust 
to  hear  good  accounts  from  you  through  your  mes- 
sengers to  Falkenstein,  who  shall  be  welcome  at  the 
inn  at  our  expense." 

The  Duke  promised  to  keep  the  Abbot  well  informed 
as  to  their  movements.  In  bidding  him  farewell,  he 
added  in  a  tone  of  mock  foreboding  that  he  hoped 
those  spectres  would  leave  him  in  peace  hereafter. 


134          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

"My  own  ghost  is  buried  for  good,"  replied  the  Ab- 
bot, laughing  heartily;  "it  has  fulfilled  its  mission. 
Farewell !  I  shall  pray  at  vespers  and  early  mass  for 
your  safe  return." 

As  they  repaired  to  the  inn  Conrad  observed  Ursula 
approaching  from  another  direction.  Meeting  her  at 
the  door,  he  learned  that  she  had  been  to 
the  convent  and  had  seen  Rosalie.  This  child,  since 
her  entrance  into  the  convent,  had  studied  faithfully  in 
the  hope  that  the  day  Conrad  would  see  her  again, 
she  might  be  as  accomplished  as  the  Princess  of  Falk- 
enstein. 

The  Abbess  had  given  her  special  instruction  in  sing- 
ing. She  had  developed  a  beautiful  voice.  Loving 
music  with  all  her  heart,  as  it  seemed  to  bring  her 
nearer  to  her  hero,  she  astonished  her  teacher  by  her 
wonderful  progress  in  the  art,  as  yet  little  known  in 
Germany,  where  it  was  taught  exclusively  by  minstrels 
and  highly  educated  nuns. 

In  telling  Conrad  where  she  had  been,  Ursula 
seemed  much  agitated.  She  requested  that  she  might 
speak  to  him  alone. 

Passing  into  a  sunny  room  overlooking  the  river, 
she  sat  down  by  him,  and  placing  a  soft,  cold  hand  on 
his,  she  thus  spoke,  rapidly : 

"I  went,  as  I  have  said,  to  the  convent  to  see  Rosalie, 
thy  preserver,  and  as  thou  hast  called  her  to  me,  thy 


TRUE  LOVE.  135 

adopted  sister,"  looking  intently,  meanwhile,  in  Con- 
rad's face.  He  met  her  gaze  unflinchingly.  "On  en- 
tering the  convent  garden,"  she  resumed,  "I  heard 
some  one  singing,  not  far  off.  Requesting  the  nun 
who  had  admitted  me  to  await  me  at  the  main  en- 
trance, I  went  in  the  direction  from  which  the  exquis- 
ite voice  seemed  to  proceed.  Moving  cautiously,  I 
perceived  a  lovely  girl  leaning  upon  the  casement  of 
the  open  window,  apparently  addressing  the  birds  in 
answer  to  their  warblings  as  they  flitted  about  in  the 
trees. 

"As  I  approached  near  enough  to  see  her  face  dis- 
tinctly, she  changed  her  exhilarating  notes  to  those 
of  sad  appeal  to  her  feathered  friends,  which  affected 
me  greatly.  Again  her  rich  voice  struck  a  more  joyous 
strain,  ending  with  inspiriting  words  to  the  little  song- 
sters, and  some  brilliant  imitations  of  their  notes. 

"It  was  a  lovely  sight  and  one  which  I  shall  never 
forget.  I  believe  I  remember  the  words  of  her  song. 
I  will  write  them  down  for  thee — before  we  part !" 

Ursula's  voice  trembled  as  she  said  this.  With 
some  effort  she  continued :  "I  was  afterward  admitted 
into  the  convent.  The  Abbess  received  me  most  af- 
fectionately. She  asked  me  several  questions  concern- 
ing myself  and  thee,  my  devoted  knight,  which  I  an- 
swered as  best  I  could.  I  then  told  her  that  I  had 
come  to  see  Lady  Rosalie.  This  was  against  the  rule ; 


136         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

but  when  I  informed  her  that  it  was  for  the  sake  of 
one  most  dear  to  me,  as  well  as  for  my  own  happi- 
ness, she  consented,  and  went  herself  to  bring  her  to 
me." 

"When  left  alone,  my  dear  Conrad,"  she  resumed 
with  suppressed  emotion,  "I  looked  out  into  the  gar- 
den. Seeing  the  autumn  leaves  upon  the  ground,  I 
had  a  foreboding,  though  from  no  accountable  cause, 
that  I,  too,  should  lie  withered  before  another  year  had 
passed."  Tears  gathered  in  her  eyes  as  she  spoke. 
Conrad  took  her  hand  tenderly  within  his  own.  She 
did  not  withdraw  it.  Recovering  her  voice,  she  con- 
tinued: "The  door  opened  and  Rosalie  stood  before 
me,  the  same  apparition  I  had  seen  at  the  open  win- 
dow, whose  song  had  so  deeply  affected  me.  I  have 
never  seen  anyone  half  so  lovely.  Her  raven  hair, 
only  partially  hidden  by  the  novice's  cap,  burst  its 
bounds  in  luxuriant  masses  all  around  her  head — and 
such  a  face.  I  cannot  describe  it.  Conrad  von  Rhein- 
stein!  thou  hast  seen  that  face,  and  knowing  her  as 
thou  dost,  how  canst  thou  help  loving  her?" 

Ursula,  though  smiling  the  while,  asked  this  ques- 
tion with  excitement.  She  attempted  gently  to  with- 
draw her  hand,  but  he  retained  his  hold.  Bringing  it 
to  his  lips,  he  said,  "I  might  have  loved  this  child  but 
for  thee,  Ursula.  Thy  beauty,  together  with  the  no- 
bleness of  thy  spirit  have  driven  all  else  from  my  heart. 


TRUE  LOVE.  137 

I  am  this  day,  more  than  ever,  thy  devoted  knight,  to 
live  for,  and  if  need  be,  die  for  thee."  He  was  about 
to  fall  on  his  knees  before  her,  when  she  restrained 
him.  With  a  trembling  voice  she  besought  him  to  be 
seated  and  listen  to  what  else  she  had  to  relate. 

"Rosalie  gazed  at  me  for  some  time  without  speak- 
ing," she  continued,  "nor  could  I  utter  a  single  word. 
At  last  she  spoke  in  a  voice  that  was  music  itself,  ask- 
ing me  if  I  had  not  come  with  a  message  from  thee. 
At  the  same  time  she  extended  both  hands  to  me  with 
a  smile  which  found  its  way  straight  to  my  heart.  I 
caught  her  in  my  arms.  I  kissed  her,  assuring  her  that 
I  had  come  unknown  to  thee,  wishing  to  see  and  learn 
to  love  one  of  whom  I  had  heard  so  much. 

"  'He  is  near  then  ?'  she  said,  quickly  placing  her 
little  hand  on  her  heart;  'I  feel  it  here.  Tell  me  he  is 
well  and  happy!' 

"  'I  think  he  is,'  I  answered. 

"  'Then  tell  him,'  she  replied,  looking  straight  into 
my  eyes,  'that  I  am  well  and  happy,  too,  and  that  I 
love  him  with  all  my  heart  and  soul !' 

"I  promised  her  I  would  tell  thee,"  Ursula  added, 
in  as  firm  a  voice  as  she  could  command,  and  sud- 
denly paused.  Conrad  regarded  her  with  feelings 
difficult  to  describe.  Presently  she  went  on :  "For  a 
time  this  wonderful  girl  scanned  me  so  intently  with 


138          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

her  dark  eyes,  I  could  hardly  meet  her  gaze,  then 
asked,  abruptly :  'Hast  thou,  noble  Princess,  anything 
to  do  with  his  happiness  ?' 

"Scarcely  knowing  how  to  reply,  I  hesitated ;  seeing 
my  embarrassment,  she  said :  'If  so,  I  shall  bless  thee, 
because  thou  art  more  beautiful  and  nobler' — her  very 
words,  Conrad — 'than  any  other  woman  in  the  world. 
Thou  canst  not  fail  to  make  him  happy.' 

"It  was  impossible  to  longer  restrain  myself;  so 
placing  both  arms  around  this  sweet,  lovely,  innocent 
creature,  so  faithful  and  loving,  I  found  relief  in  tears. 

"Controlling  myself,  I  bade  her  sit  by  me.  I  then 
told  this  child,  who  loves  thee,  Conrad,  so  well,  that 
thou  and  I  were  very  dear  to  each  other,  but  that  un- 
til we  were  both  satisfied  that  we  loved  each  other  ex- 
clusively, we  would  never  become  betrothed.  Did  I 
do  right?"  she  asked,  suddenly  turning  to  him  her 
beautiful  pale  face. 

"Yes,"  replied  Conrad,  pressing  her  hand  to  his 
wildly  beating  heart,  "but  as  I  have  told  thee  thou  art 
all  the  world  to  me,  it  now  only  needs  thy  decision 
to  seal  our  fate !" 

She  was  silent  for  some  time,  looking  at  him  with 
conflicting  emotions.  "Conrad,"  she  faltered,  "since 
this  girl  loves  thee  so  fondly,  ought  I  to  try  not  to  love 
thee  so  much?"  As  she  said  this  she  blushed  deeply 
in  spite  of  herself. 


TRUE  LOVE.  139 

Conrad  gazed  at  her  in  mute  astonishment.  He  had 
listened  to  another  woman's  praise  from  the  lips  of  her 
whose  every  word  was  to  him  an  oracle.  She  had 
never  appeared  to  him  half  so  attractive  as  at  that 
moment.  In  pleading  for  another,  she  had  spoken  for 
herself,  unawares,  better  than  she  could  have  done 
in  any  other  way ;  for  she  had  revealed  the  inmost  re- 
cesses of  her  own  heart. 

Realizing  this,  she  blushed,  betraying  for  the  first 
time,  in  his  presence,  the  deepest  confusion.  And  Con- 
rad ?  He  sank  down  at  her  feet.  The  next  moment  he 
held  her  in  his  arms,  kissing  her  again  and  again.  She 
submitted  for  a  while ;  then,  gently  extricating  herself, 
she  said,  roguishly,  "I  shall  be  more  careful  what  I  tell 
thee  in  the  future,  my  bold,  my  beloved  knight,  if  the. 
consequences  be  such  as  these ;  though,"  with  a  loving, 
lingering  look  at  him,  "1  shall  never,  never  regret  this 
happy  moment."  She  then  quickly  left  the  room. 

The  knight  sat  for  some  time  in  deep  thought.  The 
certain  knowledge  of  Ursula's  passionate  love  thrilled 
him  intensely;  and  he  well  knew  that  he  returned  it 
with  all  the  ardor  that  this  beautiful  woman  could 
ask.  As  he  mused  on  this  subject  Ursula  re-entered,  ar- 
rayed in  a  riding  habit,  ready  to  return  to  her  father's 
castle.  She  held  in  her  hand  a  parchment,  which  she 
informed  Conrad  was  Rosalie's  song  to  the  birds,  tran- 
scribed from  memory.  "This  little  paper,"  she  added, 


140         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

"fills  me  with  sadness,  for  I  realize  my  happiness  and 
her  sorrow,  unless  indeed  she  learns  to  forget, 
or  should  be  content,  as  she  so  sweetly  told 
me,  to  know  thee  happy  with  another.  And  now,  fare- 
well. Let  us  never  forget  this  day,  whatever  may  hap- 
pen hereafter.  It  has  brought  us  very  near  to  each 
other,  and  allowed  me,  at  least,  a  glimpse  of  that 
heaven  on  earth  which  is  the  gift  of  only  true  love." 

For  answer  Conrad  clasped  her  in  his  arms  in  one 
long,  last  embrace. 

Presently  she  freed  herself,  and  with  her  face  glow- 
ing through  happy  tears,  turned  to  go  to  Saladin.  Con- 
rad followed.  Lifting  her  into  the  saddle,  he  said, 
"God  bless  thee,  darling,  for  all  thy  goodness  to  me. 
From  this  time  forth  I  shall  live  only  for  thee." 

"Never  could  I  be  happy  without  thee,  my  gallant 
Conrad,"  answered  the  Princess,  "we  shall  continue  to 
live  for  each  other.  Think  of  me  during  our  separa- 
tion as  fondly  and  as  often  as  I  shall  think  of  thee." 

Waving  a  final  farewell,  she  galloped  away,  followed 
by  a  small  escort  of  the  Duke's  attendants.  On  reach- 
ing home  Ursula  fell  on  her  mother's  breast  and  told 
of  her  new-found  happiness. 

The  Duchess  caressed  her  daughter,  at  the  same 
time  showing  intense  pleasure  in  her  own  happy  eyes. 
She  told  her  that  now  the  dearest  wish  of  her  heart 
had  been  realized ;  that  she  looked  forward  to  her  re- 


TRUE  LOVE.  141 

maining  days  on  earth  with  a  pleasure  such  as  she 
had  thought  herself  no  longer  capable  of  feeling.  Her 
health  soon  visibly  improved,  and  she  astonished  Ber- 
nard von  Wolfram,  who  came  as  usual  in  the  evening 
to  play  and  sing,  by  rising  to  greet  him. 

But  Ursula?  How  she  missed  Conrad  as  the  days 
went  slowly  by ;  particularly  in  her  daily  rides.  These 
were  now  almost  entirely  for  sweet  charity's  sake; 
but  in  the  huts  of  the  poor  she  was  constantly 
reminded  of  him.  To  Saladin  she  told  all  her  heart 
secrets.  She  prayed  for  her  knight's  safety,  and 
counted  the  days  and  hours  which  must  intervene  ere 
he  returned.  Sometimes  thoughts  of  Rosalie  would 
flit  through  her  mind.  She  remembered  that  her  eyes 
resembled  those  of  her  brother,  the  forester,  but  the 
deep  impression  the  forester  himself  had  made,  had  en- 
tirely faded  from  her  thoughts.  She  frequently  found 
herself  contrasting  Rosalie's  love  for  Conrad  with  her 
own,  but  she  battled  with  these  moods  and  strove  to 
be  happy,  after  a  fashion,  in  the  absence  of  her  lover. 

Left  to  himself  at  the  inn,  the  young  knight  ruminat- 
ed over  the  joys  which  the  future  had  in  store  for  him, 
with  much  gratitude  toward  God,  who  had  given  to 
him,  so  unworthy  of  it,  the  love  of  so  glorious  a 
woman.  Perceiving  the  parchment  Ursula  had 
brought  him  lying  on  a  chair,  he  opened  it  and  read 
the  contents: 


142          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

ROSALIE'S  SONG. 

Oh,  happy  birds,  though  leaves  are  falling, 

Ye  sing  the  live-long  morn; 
While,  yesterdays  of  love  recalling, 

I  sit,  a  maid  forlorn. 

Ye  know  full  well  that  on  the  morrow 

Each  one  will  find  its  mate; 
While,  desolate,  I  pine  in  sorrow, 

And  bear  my  cruel  fate. 

Upheld  by  his  fond  declaration: 

"If  death  come  not  to  me 
Ere  ends  our  time  of  separation, 

I  will  return  to  thee!" 

Then  you  and  I  will  sing  together, 

Oh,  birds  so  blithe  and  free; 
We'll  sing  through  fair  or  cloudy  weather, 

"Te-whit!    te-whit!    te-whee!" 

Conrad  pressed  the  parchment  tenderly  to  his  lips, 
not,  alas,  for  Rosalie,  though  it  contained  the  record 
of  her  loving  heart;  but  because  of  the  dear  hand 
which  had  transcribed  the  simple  and  touching  song. 


IN  THE  BLACK  FOREST.  143 


CHAPTER  XII. 

IN   THE   BLACK  FOREST. 

"Wilt  them  hunt? 

Thy  hounds  shall  make  the  welkin  answer  them, 
And  fetch  shrill  echoes  from  the  hollow  earth." 

— Shaks. 

A  two  days'  ride  brought  the  Duke  and  Conrad, 
with  their  attendants,  to  the  Black  Forest.  At  its 
entrance  they  obtained  from  a  colony  of  charcoal  burn- 
ers a  guide  who  was  greeted  by  the  Duke  as  his  name- 
sake, Henry. 

This  guide  and  hunter,  a  middle-aged,  well-made, 
weather-beaten  fellow,  knew  all  the  intricacies  of  the 
immense  forest,  'through  which  he  and  his  fellow 
guides  hunted  at  pleasure.  He,  at  the  same  time, 
served  as  general  overseer  for  the  powerful  nobles  and 
barons,  who  were  joint  owners  of  that  wild  region. 

Henry,  the  most  desirable  guide  of  all,  was,  with 
the  one  exception  of  Hugo  of  Waldhorst,  the 
best  marksman  among  the  hunters  who  fre- 
quented the  forest.  For  a  week  past  he  had 
been  expecting  the  Duke,  as  usual,  this  season.  Mean- 


144          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

while,  he  had  learned  that  Count  Hans  had  already 
begun  the  chase,  and  that  he  had  been  seen  at  different 
points  of  the  forest  in  full  pursuit  of  an  immense  stag, 
the  largest  that  had  appeared  therein  in  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  oldest  hunters,  and  which,  for  two  years 
past,  had  eluded  all  pursuers. 

The  Duke,  who  had  himself  assisted  in  Count  Hans' 
former  attempt  to  capture  this  noble  quarry,  had 
named  it  the  "King  of  the  Black  Forest." 

The  wild  Count,  since  the  shameful  treatment  he 
had  given  his  former  friend,  had  been  heard  to  declare, 
with  a  volley  of  terrible  oaths,  that  this  season  he 
would,  alone,  ride  down  the  stag,  if  it  cost  him  every 
horse  in  the  stable. 

Henry  knew  the  locality  where  both  the  stag  and  its 
pursuer  had  been  last  seen,  and  agreed  to  guide  the 
Duke's  party  in  that  direction,  where  they  would  most 
probably  come  across  their  double  game. 

In  the  early  morning  they  set  forth  with  great  eager- 
ness to  hunt  the  wild  huntsman ;  yet  intending  to  make 
the  most  of  their  time  in  the  pursuit  of  other  game. 
The  forest  proved  so  dense  that,  until  they  reached  * 
the  wide  runways  of  the  deer,  it  was,  at  times,  most 
difficult  to  penetrate  on  horseback.  Once  upon  the 
track  of  game,  the  chase  began  in  earnest.  No  one 
who  had  not  experienced  it  can  imagine  the  exhilara- 
tion of  such  sport ;  nor  appreciate  the  deliciousness  of 


IN  THE  BLACK  FOREST.  145 

the  subsequent  repast  and  the  weary  hunter's  sleep. 

On  the  second  day  out,  they  rode  down  two  fine 
stags,  one  of  which  they  sent  to  Falkenstein  with 
news  of  their  welfare.  At  the  end  of  the  third  day,  they 
went  into  camp  on  a  hillside,  which  protected  them 
from  the  already  chilling  autumn  winds.  Roaring 
fires  were  lighted,  and  presently  the  smell  of  broiling 
venison  greeted  their  grateful  nostrils.  As  they  joined 
in  the  repast,  sitting  near  the  cheerful  flames,  the  Duke 
and  Henry,  the  guide,  very  naturally  fell  to  recounting 
some  wonderful  hunting  stories,  luckily  new  to  Con- 
rad. 

They  slept  that  night  on  a  bed  of  forest  leaves  as 
only  hunters  can  sleep.  On  the  morning  following 
the  weather  looked  threatening.  While  still  at  break- 
fast a  thunder-storm  broke  loose.  The  guide  went 
outside  to  take  a  survey  of  the  sky,  when  suddenly  he 
assumed  a  listening  attitude,  the  Duke  and  Conrad 
watching  him  with  great  interest.  "I  hear  the  distant 
cry  of  hounds !"  he  cried.  "It  is  more  than  likely  that 
we  have  come  upon  the  mad  Count  somewhat  sooner 
than  we  expected.  I'll  wager  he  is  in  pursuit  of  the 
King  of  the  Forest.  The  fleeing  stag  will  take  one  of 
the  two  runways  on  either  side  of  us.  We  shall  soon 
know.  Listen !" 

"We  must  capture  this  game  from  Count  Hans,  if 

it  be  he,"  said  the  Duke — "today,  if  possible.    Never 
10 


146          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

mind  wind  or  weather,"  added  he,  as  the  guide  pointed 
doubtfully  at  the  angry  looking  clouds. 

"Then  I  advise  that  you  make  ready,  my  lord.  You 
will  not  need  your  horses ;  we  must  proceed  on  foot, 
and  at  once !" 

All  now  heard  the  cry  of  the  hounds,  and  as  it  came 
nearer,  the  guide  said:  "They  have  entered  the  run- 
way on  our  left !  Follow  me,  noble  sirs !" 

Leaving  the  dogs  and  attendants  behind,  they  ran 
down  the  thickly  wooded  hill,  crossbows  and  hunting 
blades  in  hand.  Their  path  lay  through  dense  under- 
brush and  over  huge  fallen  tree  trunks.  In  their  ex- 
citement they  went  rapidly  over  every  obstacle,  and 
soon  came  to  an  open  space,  where  they  halted.  "He 
will  be  certain  to  cross  this  clearing,"  said  the  guide ; 
"it  is  a  part  of  the  deer's  runway.  He  may  appear  at 
any  moment !  Are  you  ready  ?" 

Conrad,  his  heart  wildly  thumping  with  expectation, 
set  his  crossbow.  He  well  knew  that  they  were  about 
to  do  an  act  contrary  to  all  the  laws  of  the  forest,  and 
one  that  would  be  sure  to  excite  to  the  utmost  the  ire 
of  Count  Hans;  furthermore,  he  felt  the  time  for  his 
revenge  had  come. 

Again  arose  the  cry  of  the  pursuing  hounds ;  then  for 
a  moment  all  was  still.  Suddenly,  on  their  right,  there 
was  a  cracking  of  boughs  and  crashing  of  under- 
growth. Conrad  brought  his  crossbow  to  shoulder 


IN  THE  BLACK  FOREST.  147 

just  as  an  immense  stag,  carrying  a  kingly  crown  of 
antlers,  burst  with  one  tremendous  bound  into  the 
open  space.  He  let  fly  the  bolt  too  quickly 
in  his  excitement,  and  it  missed  a  vital  part, 
hitting  the  neck  instead.  The  wounded  animal  leaped 
high  in  air,  causing  the  Duke  to  miss  his  aim,  and 
continued  on  its  mad  flight,  bearing  away  Conrad's 
bolt. 

But  Henry,  the  guide,  having  waited  for  the  results 
of  both  shots,  now  took  quick  aim.  His  deadly  shaft 
went  through  the  heart  of  the  monarch  of  the  forest, 
just  as  he  was  about  to  disappear  in  the  opposite 
thicket. 

One  more  high  leap  and  his  conquered  majesty 
rolled  over  in  the  underbrush.  Henry  was  instantly 
at  his  side,  and  having  bled  him  in  true  forester's 
style,  dragged  the  body  into  the  clearing.  At  that 
moment  the  hounds  appeared  on  the  scene,  and  be- 
gan tearing  the  still  quivering  flesh. 

The  hunters  gathered  exultingly  around  their  mag- 
nificent game,  but  were  again  startled  by  a  loud  crash- 
ing behind  them.  Without  further  warning,  spear  in 
hand,  Count  Hans,  his  head  bare,  his  hair  disheveled 
and  saturated  with  rain,  dashed  upon  them  on  his 
foaming  steed,  looking,  indeed,  like  the  fabled  Wild 
Huntsman.  Reining  in  his  horse,  his  fiery  eyes  quick- 
ly took  in  the  situation. 


148          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

"Who  has  done  this  ?"  he  roared.  "Who  has  dared 
to  violate  my  rights  and  cross  my  path  in  this  damna- 
ble manner?" 

"I  am  the  man,"  replied  Duke  Henry,  "and  I  claim 
the  quarry." 

"Curse  thee,  then,"  shouted  Count  Hans,  his  face 
livid  with  rage.  "Dost  thou  mean  to  steal  the  prize 
which  I  have  followed  for  many  a  day,  and  which, 
having  been  startled  by  my  dogs,  by  the  laws  of  this 
forest  belongs  to  me?  Dismounting  as  he  made  this 
demand,  he  threw  down  his  spear,  and  with  his  short 
hunting  sword,  threateningly  faced  the  Duke.  Duke 
Henry  calmly  replied : 

"Precisely  so.  I  know  the  laws  of  the  forest  as  well 
as  thou ;  but  if  thou  wouldst  take  this  stag  away,  thou 
must  fight  for  it." 

"Come  on  then,  thou  cursed  thief,"  cried  Count 
Hans,  exasperated  to  madness  by  the  coolness  of 
his  adversary.  "I  will  teach  thee  better  manners." 
His  heavy  hunting  blade  was  already  raised;  but 
it  descended  harmlessly  on  the  still  shorter  weapon  of 
the  Duke,  who  parried  the  stroke  with  consum- 
mate skill.  The  infuriated  Count  dealt  blow  after  blow 
in  quick  succession.  He  was  taller  and  more  power- 
fully built  than  the  Duke ;  but  the  latter,  besides  being 
the  cooler  of  the  two,  was  by  far  the  better  swordsman. 


IN  THE  BLACK  FOREST.  149 

Conrad  held  his  own  weapon  in  readiness,  watch- 
ing what  he  deemed  a  most  unequal  combat  by  reason 
of  their  disparity  in  size ;  and  prepared  to  spring  to  the 
aid  of  his  friend  on  the  slightest  show  either  of  danger 
to  him,  or  of  unfair  dealing  on  the  part  of  his  adver- 
sary. Henry,  the  guide,  stood  some  distance  off,  on 
the  alert,  crossbow  in  hand. 

Soon  Count  Hans  gave  his  calmer  opponent  an  ad- 
vantage, receiving  a  wound  in  his  right  side,  which 
so  enraged  him  that,  ignoring  all  fighting  rules,  he 
fairly  threw  himself  upon  his  smaller  foe.  The  Duke 
was  compelled  to  retreat  while  parrying  these  furious 
blows,  yet  he  managed  to  wound  his  man  a  second 
time. 

Immediately  thereafter,  however,  in  stepping  back- 
ward he  missed  his  footing  and  fell  to  the  ground.  In 
an  instant  the  Count  was  astride  his  prostrate  body, 
and  aimed  a  deadly  blow  at  his  head ;  but  at  the  mo- 
ment another  sword  parried  the  blow,  which  spent  it- 
self harmlessly  on  the  sod  beneath. 

Conrad  now  stood  face  to  face  with  the  man  whom 
he  had  sworn  to  kill.  The  guide  lowered  his  weapon, 
which  he  had  raised,  charged  with  a  bolt  intended  for 
the  Count. 

"Oh,  indeed !  thou  too,  thou  cursed  hireling!"  hissed 
the  infuriated  man  through  his  set  teeth;  "we  shall 
see  who  further  dares  to  balk  me  on  this  day." 


150          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

Conrad,  fresh  and  more  expert  with  the  sword  than 
either  of  the  two  combatants,  and  nearly  as  tall  as  his 
adversary,  made  .play  with  him  for  a  time.  Then  sud- 
denly catching  him  off  his  guard,  by  a  dexterous  move- 
ment, he  twisted  the  weapon  out  of  his  hand,  tossing 
it  beyond  his  reach. 

Hans  von  Waldhorst,  thus  disarmed,  stood  before 
Conrad* von  Rheinstein,  at  his  mercy.  The  conquered 
man's  face  at  that  moment  was  a  study.  He  certainly 
expected  his  antagonist  to  run  him  through;  but  the 
latter  hesitated,  while  strange  visions  seemed  to  float 
before  his  mind's  eye.  "Why  dost  thou  hesitate,  man, 
to  put  an  end  to  my  existence?"  hoarsely  muttered 
the  Count.  "Have  I  not  done  enough  to  deserve  thy 
hate  and  merit  death  at  thy  hands  ?"  As  he  said  this, 
his  face  grew  pale,  yet  he  retained  his  defiant  bearing. 

"Thou  hast,  indeed,  done  all  thou  sayest,"  replied 
Conrad,  "but  I  cannot  strike  the  blow.  Thou  art  the 
father  of  Rosalie,  who  saved  my  life.  I  spare  thee 
for  her  sake.  Go,  and  repent  thy  ways !"  He  lowered 
his  hand  and  turned  away. 

Thus  did  our  knight  keep  his  oath  of  vengeance 
when  the  opportunity  which  he  had  been  seeking  pre- 
sented itself.  Count  Hans  made  no  reply,  but  a  grad- 
ual change  came  over  his  hardened  face.  He  grew 
deathly  pale,  staggered  a  few  steps  backward,  and 
would  have  fallen,  had  not  the  Duke,  who  had  regained 


IN  THE  BLACK  FOREST.  151 

his  feet,  sprung  to  his  side  and  caught  him  in  his 
arms.  He  laid  his  enemy  gently  in  the  wet  grass.  He 
examined  his  wounds,  from  which  the  blood  was  flow- 
ing freely.  He  bandaged  the  injured  side  and  arm  as 
well  as  he  could  with  pieces  of  linen  torn  from  his  own 
clothing ;  then,  with  a  blast  from  his  bugle,  summoned 
his  attendants.  Conrad,  too,  came  to  his  assistance. 
Together  they  bent  over  their  fallen  enemy,  who  for 
the  time,  seemed  to  have  lost  consciousness.  Gradually 
the  stricken  man  opened  his  eyes  and  gazed  at  them 
steadily  for  some  moments.  As  he  again  closed  them, 
the  friends  noticed  that  large  tears  had  gathered  on  his 
lashes,  and  brimming  over,  ran  down  his  palid  cheeks. 

"The  mad  spell  is  broken,  and  I  trust  effectually," 
whispered  the  Duke  to  Conrad.  "I  cannot  help  feel- 
ing pity  for  him  now." 

"Nor  can  I,"  softly  answered  Conrad.  "How 
strange  that  it  should  have  come  to  this,  after  all  that 
has  happened !" 

"Not  so  strange,  either,  at  least  for  thee  and  me," 
feelingly  replied  the  Duke,  "who  know  and  love  Ur- 
sula so  well." 

"Aye,  irrvery  truth,"  answered  Conrad,  "she  is  an 
angel,  whose  influence,  even  at  a  time  like  this,  has  its 
hold  on  our  hearts." 

The  wounded  man,  who  very  possibly  had  heard 


152         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

some  of  this  conversation,  again  opened  his  eyes,  and 
in  a  tremulous  voice  asked : 

"Have  ye,  indeed,  pity  for  so  miserable  a  creature 
as  I?" 

"We  can  both  pity,"  replied  the  Duke,  "and  also 
forgive  all  the  past,  if  thou  wilt  but  come  to  thy  senses 
and  lead  a  different  life." 

The  poor  Count  remained  silent,  looking  with  be- 
dimmed  eyes,  first  at  Duke  Henry,  and  then  at  Conrad, 
who  was  brushing  back  the  dripping  hair  from  his  fore- 
head. 

At  last  the  wounded  man  spoke  in  a  most  pitiful, 
heart-broken  voice,  "If  ye  are  inclined  in  your  hearts 
to  forgive  me,  I  have  a  last  boon  to  ask,  should  I  die 
here." 

"What  is  it  ?"  inquired  the  Duke,  with  interest. 

"It  is  that  ye  will  see  my  body  carried  to  my  castle 
for  burial ;  or,  should  I  live  to  get  there,  that  ye  will 
send  for  my  son  and  Volga,  that  I  may  see  them 
once  more  before  I  am  summoned  away  from  this 
world."  He  ceased. 

"My  men  will  presently  be  here,"  replied  the  Duke. 
"With  them  I  will  accompany  thee,  and  send  messen- 
gers after  thy  son  and  thy  adopted  daughter.  We  shall 
start  for  Waldhorst  within  an  hour." 

"Henry,  my  old  comrade,"  sobbed  the  Count,  break- 
ing down  completely,  "this  is  indeed  too  much !  May 


IN  THE  BLACK  FOREST.  153 

God  forgive  me  my  sins!"  This  was  the  first  time 
since  the  death  of  his  wife,  that  Count  Hans  had  used 
the  name  of  God,  save  to  take  it  in  vain. 

The  Duke's  attendants  now  arrived  on  the  scene 
with  horses,  dogs,  tents  and  other  belongings.  They 
washed  and  redressed  the  Count's  wounds,  then  gave 
him  a  warming  draught.  Lifting  him  upon  an  im- 
provised stretcher  fastened  across  the  backs  of  two 
horses,  they  marched  onward,  taking  the  nearest  route 
to  Waldhorst. 

Henry,  the  guide,  was  sent  to  apprise  Hugo  and 
Volga  of  their  coming,  who  were  hunting  not  far  from 
home. 


154         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  WITCH'S  FATAL  HAND. 

"How  stands  the  great  account  'twixt  me  and  vengeance? 
Tho*  much  is  paid,  yet  still  it  owes  me  much; 
And  I  will  not  abate  a  single  groan." 

— Young's  Revenge. 

On  the  evening  of  the  day  after  that  on  which  the 
scenes  described  in  the  foregoing  chapter  took  place, 
a  cavalcade  of  huntsmen  appeared  on  the  brow  of  a 
hill  overlooking  Waldhorst  Castle,  whose  towers  were 
illumined  by  the  setting  sun- 
Borne  on  a  stretcher  lay  the  lord  of  that  castle, 
whom  the  hand  of  fate  had  at  last  laid  low  in  the 
midst  of  his  mad  career.  He  was  unable  even  to  raise 
his  head.  The  Duke  of  Falkenstein  and  Knight  Con- 
rad rode  beside  him,  eager  to  attend  to  his  slightest 
behest.  Count  Hans  stretched  out  his  hand  feebly  to 
the  Duke,  saying:  "I  feel  as  if  the  devil  within  me 
were  dead  at  last,  and  the  spirit  of  my  departed  wife, 
looking  down  from  heaven,  were  sharing  my  repent- 
ance. I  must  have  been  a  madman  indeed  to  have 


THE  WITCH'S  FATAL  HAND.  155 

erred  as  I  have  done ;  and  now  my  sins  have  found  me 
out,  and  I  am  dying  when  I  fain  would  live  to  make 
amends  for  my  past  trangressions." 

"No,  not  dying,"  interposed  the  Duke ;  "let  us  hope 
for  a  better  outcome  of  thy  injuries." 

That  night  Conrad  slept  under  the  roof  beneath 
which  he  had  first  seen  Rosalie.  Visions  of  her 
haunted  his  dreams  all  night,  but  naturally,  alter- 
nating with  the  beautiful  beloved  image  of  Ursula. 

Count  Hans  grew  worse  as  the  hours  went  on.  It 
seemed  to  the  Duke,  watching  at  his  bedside,  that  the 
end  was  drawing  near.  At  the  dawn  of  day  an  old 
retainer,  the  only  leech  of  the  castle,  administered 
some  new  medicine.  Almost  immediately  the  pa- 
tient rallied,  and  from  that  time  forth  continued  to 
improve.  Henry,  the  guide,  now  arrived  with  Hugo 
and  Volga.  We  can  imagine  the  young  forester's  joy 
at  finding  Duke  Henry  and  Knight  Conrad  guests  of 
his  wounded  father ;  and  in  noting  the  complete  change 
which  had  come  over  that  violent  nature.  The  Count 
continued  to  improve.  When  all  danger  seemed  past 
Conrad  accompanied  Hugo  and  Volga  on  short  hunt- 
ing expeditions  in  the  woods  of  Waldhorst.  Each 
day  he  grew  fonder  of  the  boy  and  more  interested  in 
the  girl.  The  child  of  the  woods  had  ridden  through 
those  wild  regions  since  her  earliest  youth.  She 
had  just  reached  her  seventeenth  year,  and  was 


156          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

passionately  devoted  to  her  adopted  brother.  Only 
once  did  Hugo  mention  Ursula's  name  to  Conrad.  He 
then  asked  abruptly  if  it  were  true  that  they  would 
marry.  Conrad  replied  that  as  yet  no  day  had  been 
fixed  for  their  nuptials,  and,  in  the  uncertainties  of  life, 
there  was  no  telling  when  it  would  be.  It  seemed  pre- 
posterous, he  added,  that  any  such  ordinary  mortal  as 
himself  should  anticipate  a  union  with  so  beautiful  and 
glorious  a  woman.  He  was  quite  sincere  in  this  modest 
speech,  and  he  had  some  vague  presentiment  that  fate 
might  yet  prevent  his  marriage  with  the  Princess. 

"She  is,  indeed,  a  glorious  woman !"  exclaimed 
Hugo,  looking  straight  into  Conrad's  face  in  a  man- 
ner which  reminded  him  of  Rosalie.  "I  have  never 
forgotten  her  since  the  first  and  only  time  I  ever  saw 
her,  when  she  gave  me  this  little  image  of  herself, 
which  I  wear  next  to  my  heart.  I  have  loved  her  ever 
since  with  a  hopeless,  though  none  the  less  deep-seated 
passion.  I  know  not  why  I  should  tell  thee  this; 
something  impels  me  to  do  so.  I  feel  that  I  can  trust 
thee  with  a  secret  which  I  am  no  longer  able  to  shut 
within  my  heart." 

Conrad  looked  at  the  handsome  youth  at  his  side 
in  silence,  and  thought  of  the  deep  blush  which  had 
mantled  Ursula's  cheek  when  he  had  stood  before  her 
at  the  tournament.  Reaching  out  his  hand  to  him,  he 


THE  WITCH'S  FATAL  HAND.  157 

said :  "We  are  both  admirers  of  this  beautiful  woman ; 
let  us  be  friends  as  well." 

The  youth  took  the  proffered  hand  in  silence.  Hav- 
ing thus  pledged  their  friendship,  they  rode  on  side 
by  side. 

Volga  soon  caught  up  with  them,  followed  by  an 
attendant  carrying  a  splendid  roebuck  which  the 
young  girl  had  shot  at  long  range  while  following  its 
trail  alone.  The  young  men  complimented  her  on  her 
achievement,  and  for  bringing  home  so  splendid  a 
roast  for  the  table. 

In  the  evenings  Conrad  would  sit  at  the  Count's 
bedside  listening  to  the  stories  which  he  and  the  Duke 
would  recount  of  their  younger  day,  "before,"  as 
Hans  von  Waldhorst  put  it,  "he  had  sold  his  soul  to 
the  devil."  Of  the  darker  experiences  of  later  years 
he  never  spoke,  save  once,  when  the  attack  on  Castle 
Grunau  was  alluded  to.  According  to  his  story,  it 
was  the  outcome  of  a  personal  quarrel  between  the 
Baron  and  himself;  and  as  the  former  had  every 
chance  of  defending  himself,  and  he  himself  had  lost  a 
great  many  men  in  assaulting  the  formidable  strong- 
hold, it  seemed  to  be  a  mere  chance  of  war  that  he 
should  have  come  off  victor.  The  little  girl,  who  was 
one  of  the  few  creatures  found  alive  when  he  finally  en^ 
tered  the  castle,  he  had  adopted,  naming  her  Volga. 
Together  with  his  wife,  he,  for  some  years  at  least,  had 


158         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN 

brought  her  up  with  a  fair  amount  of  care.  Later  on, 
she  had  been  allowed  to  accompany  Hugo,  roaming 
at  will  through  the  hunting  grounds.  She  had  thus 
become  an  excellent  shot  and  fearless  rider. 

When  Count  Hans  learned  that  his  daughter,  Rosa- 
lie, was  being  educated  at  the  Convent  of  St.  Agnes, 
he  expressed  not  only  great  satisfaction,  but  the  hope 
that  she  might  be  permitted  to  return  home  at  the 
end  of  her  trial  year.  The  Duke  and  Conrad  consid- 
ered the  request  a  reasonable  one,  inasmuch  as  so  com- 
plete a  change  had  taken  place  in  her  father's  heart. 

Our  hero  promised  to  call  for  her  at  the  convent  and 
bring  her  to  Waldhorst  in  the  spring. 

At  the  end  of  two  weeks,  Count  Hans,  whose 
wounds  were  fast  healing,  grew  so  much  better  that 
he  was  able  to  sit  up.  Duke  Henry  and  Knight  Con- 
rad decided  to  return  to  Falkenstein  within  the  next 
three  days ;  the  former  sent  a  messenger  forthwith  to 
his  daughter,  informing  her  of  their  intended  depar- 
ture from  Waldhorst,  and  of  the  great  change  which 
had  taken  place  in  the  Count. 

Conrad  became  wild  with  joy  in  the  anticipation  of 
soon  clasping  Ursula  to  his  heart. 

It  was  a  touching  sight  to  mark  the  old  Count,  now 
convalescent,  and  utterly  repentant,  as  he  endeavored 
to  please  his  guests.  The  latent  good  in  his  nature, 
which  for  so  many  years  had  been  dormant,  now  be- 


THE  WITCH'S  FATAL  HAND.  159 

gan  to  crop  out  little  by  little.  He  begged  his  friends 
to  delay  their  departure,  and  exacted  a  promise  from 
them  to  repeat  their  visit  in  the  following  year.  Hugo 
and  Volga  also  manifestly  regretted  the  proposed  de- 
parture of  our  young  knight.  Suddenly,  on  the  eve 
of  that  very  day,  an  unexpected  and  alarming  change 
took  place  in  the  Count's  condition.  His  wounds  had 
healed,  apparently;  but  in  the  night,  after  his  usual 
medicine  had  been  administered,  he  was  seized  with 
severe  chills,  which  completely  prostrated  him.  In 
the  morning  symptoms  for  the  worse  were  so  plainly 
visible  in  his  face  that  his  friends  postponed  their  de- 
parture, and  as  a  relapse  became  certain,  the  Duke 
sent  a  second  messenger  to  Falkenstein  announcing 
the  fact. 

When  all  remedies  failed  to  give  the  Count  relief 
it  was  decided,  as  a  last  resort,  to  consult  the  old  witch 
of  Waldhorst,  the  efficacy  of  whose  herbs  and  potions 
were  well  known.  Conrad  was  sent  to  interview  her. 
As  he  entered  the  hut,  he  was  appalled  at  the  change 
which  had  come  over  its  inmate.  Coughing  incessant- 
ly, and  fearfully  emaciated,  she  stood  before  him.  Her 
eyes,  more  deeply  sunken  than  ever,  seemed  literally 
to  burn  in  their  sockets. 

Fully  aware  of  all  that  was  going  on  at  the  castle, 


160         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

she  refused  to  provide  any  of  her  remedies  for  Count 
Hans,  saying,  it  would  be  useless,  as  his  hour  was  at 
hand. 

"In  five  days'  time,"  she  added,  "on  the  anniversary 
of  my  son's  death,  Count  Hans  will  die  in  agony,  and 
I  shall  be  there  to  see  him  suffer." 

Conrad  was  horrified.  Disheartened  and  oppressed 
with  evil  forebodings  which  he  could  not  put  away 
from  him,  he  returned  to  the  sick  chamber.  The  un- 
certainty of  his  return  to  Ursula  only  added  to  the 
disquietude  of  his  heart.  He  found  the  Duke  with 
the  patient,  who  had  just  expressed  the  wish  to  see 
his  daughter  Rosalie  once  more  before  he  died,  that 
he  might  ask  her  forgiveness. 

Conrad  offered  to  bring  her  to  him  without  delay, 
and  forthwith  departed.  Hugo  accompanied  him  to  a 
secret  ford  in  the  river  known,  besides  to  himself,  only 
to  his  father,  sister  and  some  of  his  most  trusted  men. 
This  route  shortened  the  distance  to  the  Benedictine 
Monastery  by  at  least  two  leagues.  Guiding  their 
horses  successfully  across  they  separated  on  the  oppo- 
site bank,  Hugo  returning  to  Waldhorst.  Conrad 
pursued  his  way  alone,  through  the  night,  and  arrived 
at  the  monastery*  at  sunrise.  There  he  soon  roused 
the  Abbot.  The  holy  man  was  astounded  at  his 
report  of  the  Count's  changed  mental  condition  and 
his  heart  somewhat  softened  toward  "that  repent- 


THE  WITCH'S  FATAL  HAND.  161 

ant  old  sinner,"  as  he  called  him.  He  went  imme- 
diately to  the  convent  and  succeeded,  not  without 
trouble,  however,  in  arranging  for  Rosalie's  visit  to 
the  bedside  of  her  dying  father.  An  hour  later,  the 
young  girl,  closely  veiled,  mounted  on  a  well-capar- 
isoned mule,  passed  out  of  the  convent  gate,  accom- 
panied by  two  nuns. 

Conrad,  with  two  mounted  monks,  awaited  this 
novel  procession  at  the  inn.  As  the  young  girl  passed 
him,  he  thought  he  perceived  a  slight  movement  of  her 
hand  as  though  in  greeting.  It  was  entirely  involun- 
tary on  her  part,  her  heart  having  almost  leaped  into 
her  throat  at  the  sight  of  him ;  but  as  it  brought  a  re- 
sponse, the  girl's  happiness  was  complete.  No  one 
else  noticed  what  would  have  been  deemed  a  mutual 
greeting. 

Though  on  so  mournful  a  mission,  great  was  Rosa- 
lie's joy  in  knowing  that  Conrad  was  near.  When 
the  monks  requested  him  to  take  the  lead  that  he  might 
point  out  the  way,  she  could  hardly  contain  herself. 

There,  just  before  her,  in  his  green  hunting  suit, 
looking  handsomer  than  ever,  and  mounted  on  a  beau- 
tiful steed,  sat  the  man  whom  she  loved  with  all  her 
heart.  She  continued  feasting  her  eyes  on  him. 

It  was  dark  when  they  reached  the  secret  ford.  Con- 
rad was  on  the  point  of  attempting  to  cross  it  ahead  of 

Rosalie,  when  she  called  out  to  him  not  to  try  doing 
11 


162         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

so  at  so  late  an  hour.  These  were  the  only  words  she 
had  addressed  to  the  young  knight  on  their  way ;  and 
he,  in  answer  to  the  sweet,  familiar  voice,  looking  at 
the  veiled  figure  in  silence  gave  up  the  attempt.  Pur- 
suing the  longer  way,  he  arrived  with  his  party  two 
hours  later  at  Waldhorst. 

Rosalie  went  immediately  to  her  father's  bedside, 
remaining  with  him  all  night.  She  kept  him  during  that 
time  from  again  relapsing  into  delirium.  When  she 
joined  the  nuns  at  daylight,  she  told  them,  with  tears 
in  her  eyes,  that  her  father  had  just  fallen  into  a  deep 
sleep  encircled  by  her  arms. 

Conrad  lay  awake  all  night  with  an  unaccountable 
anxiety  and  an  intense  longing  for  Ursula.  Early 
next  morning  he  accompanied  Rosalie  and  her  monas- 
tic cortege  from  Waldhorst  Castle  as  far  as  the  secret 
ford.  That  was  more  happiness  for  the  girl,  though 
of  short  duration,  and  none  the  less  enjoyable  for  com- 
ing after  a  night  of  sorrow. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken  between  them ;  but  in  spite 
of  rules  and  watchful  eyes  fixed  upon  her,  Rosalie 
brought  her  hand  close  to  her  veiled  lips  at  parting 
and  waved  it  to  Conrad.  The  gallant  young  knight, 
in  spite  of  his  anxious  heart,  kissed  his  to  her  in  re- 
turn. 

Feeling  assured  that  they  had  been  seen,  and  being 
repentant  for  that  reason  alone  for  having  transgressed 


He  accompanied  Rosalie  and  her  monastic  cortege. 


THE  WITCH'S  FATAL  HAND.  163 

the  rules,  she  begged  the  nuns  to  promise  that  they 
would  say  nothing  to  the  Abbess  about  the  parting 
salute.  This  they  did,  and  moreover,  kept  their  word. 

That  morning  the  Count  seemed  more  quiet;  and 
later  in  the  day  conversed  with  his  friends,  expressing 
his  approval  and  pleasure  at  hearing  the  Duke's  propo- 
sition to  adopt  Rosalie  as  his  daughter,  on  her  leaving 
the  convent.  Toward  evening,  however,  reaction  set 
in,  and  as  the  night  advanced  the  patient  grew  so 
much  worse  than  the  combined  strength  of  Conrad 
and  Henry,  the  guide,  was  necessary  to  hold  him  in 
bed. 

On  the  day  following,  the  fifth  since  the  relapse  oc- 
curred, the  Count  expressed  himself  as  conscious  that 
the  end  was  drawing  near.  Until  the  evening  he  was 
perfectly  calm,  speaking  gratefully  to,  and  blessing 
his  friends  for  their  goodness  to  him.  Soon  after  tak- 
ing his  last  draught  of  medicine  he  showed  signs  of 
suffering  acutely.  As  there  was  no  delirium,  the  Duke 
announced  his  intention  of  remaining  all  night  with 
the  dying  man,  promising  to  call  Conrad  or  the  guide 
in  case  of  need.  His  suffering  grew  more  intense  as 
the  hours  dragged  by.  Close  upon  midnight  his  agony 
seemed  to  have  reached  a  climax.  Suddenly  his  eyes, 
wild  with  horror,  became  fixed  on  some  object  before 
him.  "My  God !"  he  cried,  "look !  there  she  stands ! 
take  her  away!  she  is  mocking  me!" 


164          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

Fearing  the  return  of  delirium,  the  Duke  was  about 
to  summon  assistance,  when  turning  his  eyes  in  the 
direction  in  which  those  of  the  Count  were  riveted, 
he  saw,  to  his,  horror,  the  Witch  of  Waldhorst,  with 
wild,  unearthly  eyes,  standing  at  the  foot  of  the  bed, 
and  pointing  with  her  long,  bony  finger  at  her  old 
enemy.  A  mocking  laugh  broke  appallingly  from  her 
shriveled  lips  on  the  silence  of  the  death  chamber 
as  she  cried : 

"Thine  hour  has  come  at  last,  Count  Hans  von 
Waldhorst,  as  I  predicted.  I  am  here  to  see  thee 
suffer !  Ha !  Ha !  Ha !'?  again  came  that  terrible  laugh 
which  nearly  froze  the  Duke's  blood.  "Take  her 
away!"  cried  Count  Hans,  gasping  for  breath,  "mer- 
ciful God !  she  is  killing  me !"  That  cry  awoke  Conrad, 
who  ran  into  the  sick-room  and  saw  the  Count  sitting 
up  in  bed,  staring  wildly  before  him.  He  followed  his 
look  but  saw  nothing,  the  witch  having  vanished. 

The  Duke  told  Conrad  of  the  apparition.  He  im- 
mediately ran  into  the  hall,  searching  everywhere,  but 
no  trace  of  the  witch  could  he  find. 

Returning  to  the  chamber,  he  saw  the  Duke  bend- 
ing over  the  dying  man,  watching  his  feeble  gasps,  as 
that  broken  spirit  took  its  gradual  flight  to  the  realms 
beyond,  there  to  await  the  judgment  of  an  all-merciful 
God. 

That  night  the  Witch  of  Waldhorst  disappeared. 


THE  WITCH'S  FATAL  HAND.  165 

She  was  never  seen  or  heard  of  again.  Her  old  hut 
remained  standing,  though  utterly  deserted.  No  one 
dared  to  enter,  nor  cared  to  remove  it. 

The  Duke  sent  a  messenger  to  Ursula,  informing 
her  of  the  Count's  death,  and  stating  that  he  and  Con- 
rad would  return  to  Falkenstein  on  the  day  after  the 
funeral.  Conrad's  suspicions  were  aroused  as  to  the 
actual  cause  of  the  late  sufferer's  sudden  relapse  as  well 
as  the  manner  of  his  death.  Summoning  the  old  serv- 
ant, who  had  administered  the  medicine,  he  ques- 
tioned him.  The  man  at  first  denied  all  knowledge  of 
the  witch ;  but  on  being  closely  pressed,  finally  con- 
fessed that  he  had  obtained  his  remedies  from  her ;  and 
inasmuch  as  they  had  proved  most  efficacious  in  pre- 
vious cases,  he  had  no  hesitation  in  administering 
them  to  the  Count.  Conrad's  suspicions  were  con- 
firmed; and  on  further  questioning,  the  servant  ad- 
mitted that  the  witch  had  been  actually  within  the 
servants'  hall  close  upon  the  midnight  hour. 

Conrad  thought  it  best  not  to  mention  his  discov- 
eries to  anyone  else  at  the  castle.  He  nevertheless 
instituted  a  private  search  for  the  wretched  woman. 
It,  however,  proved  entirely  fruitless. 

On  a  cold,  clear  afternoon,  two  days  thereafter,  the 
remains  of  Count  Hans  were  laid  beside  those  of  his 
fair  wife,  in  the  little  graveyard  on  the  hill,  not  far 
from  the  castle. 


166          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

As  they  stood  around  the  grave,  Hugo's  eyes  wan- 
dered over  the  distant  landscape  in  deep  thought.  His 
father's  wild  life,  and  at  the  end  his  happy  reconcilia- 
tion with  the  Duke  and  Conrad,  as  well  as  the  latter's 
betrothal  to  Ursula,  all  came  surging  into  his  mind. 
He  murmured  to  himself:  "A  strange  world  indeed, 
this  world  of  ours,  and  not  so  beautiful  to  me  as  I 
once  thought  it." 

Suddenly  his  keen  eyes  caught  sight  of  something 
in  the  distance.  On  looking  more  closely,  he  thought 
he  could  distinguish  mounted  men  in  armor,  bodies  of 
lanzknechts  moving  in  the  plain,  and  apparently  to- 
ward them. 

Though  considerably  alarmed,  he  said  nothing  until 
the  sad  obsequies  were  over.  On  returning  to  the 
castle,  he  pointed  in  the  direction,  stating  what  he 
had  seen  to  his  friends.  They  hurried  within  the  walls, 
and  sent  mounted  messengers  in  different  directions  to 
ascertain  the  meaning  of  this  sudden  appearance  of 
armed  men. 

The  Duke  felt  fully  convinced  that  Prince  Steffel 
of  Pomerania  was  about  to  carry  out  the  threat  made 
at  the  tournament,  and  invade  the  Principality  of 
Falkenstein.  Learning  by  chance  of  their  presence 
at  Waldhorst,  he  must  have  concluded  to  attack  that 
stronghold  on  the  way.  He  was  consequently  greatly 
alarmed ;  the  more  so  on  his  daughter's  account  than 


THE  WITCH'S  FATAL  HAND.  167 

his  own.  He  knew  Prince  Steffel's  force  to  be  larger 
than  any  which  could  be  opposed  to  him,  even  with  the 
possible  contingent  of  Waldhorst,  and  the  friendly 
castles  in  the  neighborhood  of  Falkenstein  combined. 
He  began  to  blame  himself  for  not  having  kept  a 
watch  on  the  vindictive  Pomeranian.  How  far  he  was 
right  in  his  conjectures  will  be  shown  in  our  next 
chapter. 


168          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

WAR. 

"O  that  we  now  had  here 

But  one  ten  thousand  of  those  men  in  England, 
That  do  not  work  today." 

— Shaks.  Henry  V. 

Within  the  courtyard  of  Waldhorst  stood  Duke 
Henry,  Conrad  and  young  Hugo,  the  new  lord  of  the 
castle,  in  anxious  consultation. 

Two  messengers  of  those  sent  out  half  an  hour  be- 
fore had  just  returned,  their  horses  covered  with 
foam,  and  reported  the  woods  and  valley  alive  with 
Pomeranian  knights  and  hirelings,  and  that  tents  were 
being  pitched  within  a  short  distance  of  Waldhorst, 
on  the  right  bank  of  the  river.  The  third  messenger 
did  not  return,  having  in  all  probability  been  cap- 
tured and  put  to  the  sword  by  the  ruthless  invaders. 

As  our  friends  reviewed  the  situation,  another  bear- 
er of  evil  tidings  arrived,  in  the  person  of  a  monk  from 
the  Benedictine  Monastery,  who  had  been  sent  by  the 
Abbot  to  inform  the  inmates  of  Waldhorst  of  the  ap- 
proach of  Prince  Steffel,  in  person,  to  within  a  stone's 


WAR.  169 

throw  of  the  ferry  landing  across  the  river,  after  hav- 
ing destroyed  everything  on  his  way.  The  monk 
also  stated  that  another  Benedictine  brother  had  been 
dispatched  to  warn  Ursula  to  be  on  the  lookout,  and 
prepare  to  assist  those  from  Waldhorst  Castle  who 
might  attempt  to  reach  her  on  the  receipt  of  the  alarm- 
ing news. 

Duke  Henry  instructed  the  young  monk  to  return 
with  all  haste  to  the  monastery,  and  to  dispatch  an- 
other messenger  to  the  Princess  with  the  information 
that  they  would  start  from  Waldhorst  before  day- 
light, expecting  to  get  as  far  as  the  ruins  of  Grunau 
Castle  the  succeeding  night,  where  he  hoped  his  own 
men  from  Falkenstein  would  join  them. 

Affairs  were  in  such  a  condition  at  the  castle  that 
they  found  it  impossible  to  make  an  earlier  start. 
Moreover,  they  reasoned  that  the  Pomeranian  army, 
while  preparing  to  encamp  for  the  night  beside  the 
river,  would  in  all  likelihood  not  attempt  to  cross  it 
that  day ;  and  the  early  morning  hours  seemed  to  them 
devoid  of  danger. 

They  were,  however,  in  fear  of  an  attack  on  Wald- 
horst at  any  moment ;  so  all  hands  were  put  to  work  in 
strengthening  the  fortifications.  With  the  aid  of  the 
principal  safeguard  of  the  castle,  its  broad  and  deep 
moat,  Hugo  thought  he  would  be  able  to  defend  it 
successfully  against  any  ordinary  attack,  despite  the 


170          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

reduced  number  of  his  retainers,  so  as  to  hold  out  until 
aid  should  arrive  from  Falkenstein. 

At  daylight  the  Duke  and  Conrad  started  on  their 
march  with  their  own  small  retinue  and  a  contingent 
from  Waldhorst,  in  all  about  eighty  foot  and  thirty 
mounted  retainers.  On  leaving  they  embraced  Hugo 
and  Volga,  the  latter  having  insisted  on  remaining  and 
sharing  whatever  danger  might  be  in  store  for  them. 

By  this  time  the  Abbot's  first  messenger  had  reached 
the  fortress  of  Falkenstein  and  his  tidings  produced  the 
greatest  consternation.  The  high-spirited  Princess, 
instantly  realizing  the  danger  in  which  her  father  and 
lover  were  placed,  mounted  Saladin,  and  accompanied 
by  Kurt,  galloped  to  Bernard  von  Wolfram's  castle  to 
seek  from  him  assistance  and  advice.  As  she  rode  at 
full  speed  on  her  noble  steed,  with  eyes  aflame  and  hair 
streaming  in  the  breeze,  the  beautiful  woman  stirred 
the  hearts  and  minds  of  the  dull  peasantry,  who  long 
remembered  the  unusual  sight.  Later  in  the  day  she 
returned  with  Wolfram  at  her  side,  followed  by  a  small 
detachment  of  well-disciplined  men,  the  minstrel's  con- 
tribution to  the  select  and  noble  little  band  which 
marched  that  night  to  the  relief  of  the  lord  of  Falken- 
stein. 

Wolfram  was  appointed  commander  by  Ursula.  It 
was  as  much  as  he  could  do  to  prevent  that  brave  and 
intrepid  woman  from  personally  joining  the  expedi- 


WAR.  171 

tion.  Only  after  explaining  the  necessity  of  someone 
in  authority  remaining  at  the  castle  in  the  event  of  an 
attack,  did  she  relent,  and  agreed  to  take  charge  of 
her  small  garrison  of  about  a  hundred  men  all  told. 
Wolfram  had  with  him  about  three  hundred  men,  in- 
cluding many  brave  and  devoted  knights. 

Just  before  they  reached  the  ruins  of  Grunau  next 
morning  they  met  the  second  Benedictine  messenger. 
From  him  they  learned  the  purport  of  the  Duke's 
message  to  Ursula.  It  was,  as  we  know,  that  they 
would  start  from  Waldhorst  at  the  early  dawn  of  that 
very  day.  "In  time  for  us  to  meet  them  half  way," 
said  Knight  Wolfram :  "Go  and  deliver  your  mes- 
sage, holy  brother  and  tell  the  Princess  that  you  left  us 
in  good  spirits  and  ready  to  annihilate  any  Pomeranian 
dogs  who  may  attempt  to  intercept  the  Duke." 

But  alas  for  the  uncertainity  of  all  human  calcula- 
tions! Before  another  day  had  passed  Wolfram  ap- 
peared before  the  fortress  of  Falkenstein,  his  much 
reduced  little  band  disputing  every  foot  of  ground 
with  his  enemies,  who  outnumbered  them  three  to  one. 
Prince  Steffel  cursed  his  knights  for  not  crushing  the 
little  band  outright.  He  himself  had  done  immense  ex- 
ecution among  the  devoted  few,  and  more  than  once 
had  tried  to  meet  Wolfram  face  to  face ;  but  that  shrewd 
though  valiant  captain  knew  better  than  to  risk  the 


172          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

fortunes  of  his  men  on  the  chances  of  a  single  and  un- 
equal combat. 

Ursula  saw  the  diminished,  hard  pressed  line  of  her 
faithful  retainers,  as  they  drew  near  the  fortress.  Sum- 
moning her  garrison,  and  placing  herself  at  its  head, 
she  made  a  sortie  which  took  the  enemy  unawares, 
causing  them  to  waver.  In  vain  did  Prince  Steffel, 
cursing  terribly,  ride  out  in  front  of  his  knights  and 
urge  them  to  follow  him.  The  remnant  of  the  little 
band  succeeded  in  reaching  the  lower  castle  gate  and 
was  safe.  The  gallant  Wolfram,  however,  with  a  few 
followers,  rallied  to  the  side  of  the  brave  Princess,  un- 
til she  and  her  men  were  also  safe  within  the  confines 
of  the  fortress.  The  iron  gate  half  way  up  the  hill 
was  closed  in  the  very  face  of  the  enraged  Prince, 
who  had  just  ridden  forward  alone  to  secure  his  prey. 
The  disappointed  warrior,  having  been  thus  foiled,  de- 
termined to  lay  siege  to  the  great  stronghold,  which 
was  defended  by  the  bold  woman  who  had  refused 
him  her  hand ;  so  he  encamped  at  its  base  in  the  beauti- 
ful valley  surrounding  it. 

The  splendid  fortress  of  Falkenstein,  however,  at 
the  time  of  our  story,  was  considered  impregnable. 
Prince  Steffel,  after  two  ineffectual  efforts  to  take  it 
by  storm,  gave  up  all  idea  of  capturing  it.  He  vented 
his  fury  and  disappointment,  instead,  on  the  sur- 
rounding country,  laying  waste  the  lands,  and  ran- 


WAR.  173 

sacking  or  destroying  many  of  the  minor  strong- 
holds. Among  the  latter  was  the  beautiful  little  castle 
of  Bernard  von  Wolfram,  which  was  easily  taken  dur- 
ing the  absence  of  its  owner. 

Having  thus*  left  his  evil  mark  on  the  beautiful 
principality,  Prince  Steffel  withdrew  his  forces,  re- 
turned to  the  river,  and  marched  directly  on  Wald- 
horst. 

The  enemy  having  disappeared,  Ursula  sent  at  once 
to  some  distant  barons  who  had  been  spared  by 
the  Pomeranian  Prince,  imploring  their  assistance. 
She  applied  also  for  succor  to  the  still  powerful 
though  blind,  Markgraf  of  Luxemburg,  whose  daugh- 
ter, a  great  friend  of  Ursula,  had  taken  the  reins  of 
government  into  her  own  hands,  but  was  somewhat 
unfortunately  then  engaged,  with  all  her  available 
forces,  in  a  strife  with  some  powerful  barons  who  had 
refused  to  recognize  her  father's  authority. 

This  brave  ally  could,  therefore,  only  promise  that 
as  soon  as  her  own  troubles  were  ended  she  would 
send  her  retainers  to  Ursula's  aid,  and  enter  with  all 
her  heart  into  the  warfare  with  the  Pomeranian  in- 
vader. 

As  the  season  was  already  far  advanced,  the  proba- 
bility of  this  assistance  reaching  her  before  the  spring 
were  very  slight.  Ursula  decided,  therefore,  to  gather 
together  what  she  could,  for  another  attempt  to  re- 


174          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

lieve  those  so  dear  to  her.  Two  days  after  the  re- 
pulse of  Captain  Wolfram,  she  had  learned  that  her 
father  and  Conrad  were  besieged  at  Waldhorst  Cas- 
tle, though  how  they  happened  to  remain  there,  or 
to  return  thither  after  having  left  it,  she  could  not 
comprehend. 

On  that  eventful  morning  when  the  Duke  and  Con- 
rad set  out  from  Waldhorst  at  early  dawn  with  their 
small  bands  of  retainers,  they  crossed  the  secret  ford  in 
safety,  keeping  to  byways,  in  order  to  avoid  the  lurk- 
ing foe ;  nor  did  they  encounter  any  of  them  until  the 
same  hour  that  Prince  Steffel  first  intercepted  Wol- 
fram. Half  way  to  the  monastery,  they  were  suddenly 
confronted  by  a  detachment  of  two  hundred  Pomeran- 
ian knights  and  followers,  and  another  unequal  and 
desperate  fight  ensued. 

The  Duke's  footmen  with  their  lances  presented 
an  impenetrable  barrier;  while  Conrad  protected  the 
flanks  with  his  mounted  lanzknechts,  and  did  great 
deeds  of  personal  valor. 

For  a  while  the  enemy  was  kept  at  bay  and  finally 
thrown  into  confusion.  Our  friends  might  have  taken 
advantage  of  this  by  quickly  advancing,  and  attacking 
the  rear  of  Prince  Steffel's  forces  as  they  pursued 
Wolfram,  had  not  another,  though  smaller,  detach- 
ment come  to  the  assistance  of  the  enemy.  This  force, 
having  witnessed  from  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river 


WAR.  175 

the  gallant  resistance  of  Duke  Henry  and  Conrad,  and 
subsequent  discomfiture  of  their  comrades,  plunged 
in,  and  swam  their  horses  over,  with  the  intention  of 
falling  on  their  rear.  The  Duke's  forces  wheeled  to 
meet  them  as  they  emerged  from  the  water,  and  made 
considerable  havoc  amongst  them.  The  first  detach- 
ment of  Pomeranians,  seeing  this  timely  assistance  at 
hand,  rallied  and  renewed  the  attack.  Hemmed  in  on 
both  sides  the  brave  little  band  were  compelled  to  cut 
their  way  back  to  Waldhorst,  losing  a  great  many 
men  in  doing  so.  Conrad  had  been  wounded  twice. 
The  Duke  felt  sorely  bruised,  having  had  two  horses 
killed  under  him.  The  remnant  of  their  forces  finally 
reached  the  secret  ford.  This  they  crossed  in  safety, 
while  the  enemy,  being  unacquainted  with  it,  lost  their 
footing  in  the  attempt,  many  of  them  being  swept 
down  the  stream  and  drowned.  They  were  thus 
obliged  to  abandon  further  pursuit. 

Leaving  a  strong  guard  to  watch  this  crossing, 
the  Pomeranians  marched  with  all  haste  to  join  the 
forces  besieging  Waldhorst,  hoping  that  before  their 
arrival  the  garrison  would  fall  into  the  hands  of  the 
besiegers. 

The  Duke  and  Conrad,  after  crossing  the  river  with 
but  fifteen  mounted  and  barely  fifty  footsore  lanz- 
knechts,  all  that  remained  of  the  gallant  little  band, 
felt  more  than  anxious  to  avoid  any  further  meeting 


176         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHE^NSTEIN. 

with  the  enemy.  They  therefore  approached  Wald- 
horst  stealthily,  although  still  ignorant  of  the  fact 
that  siege  had  actually  been  laid  to  the  castle.  No 
sooner  had  they  entered  the  woods,  however,  than 
they  saw  tents  and  campfires,  with  soldiers  sitting 
round  about  them.  Some  of  them  were  still  engaged 
in  cooking  their  evening  meal,  and  the  savory  smell 
which  arose  reminded  the  poor  fellows  that  they  had 
done  an  entire  day's  fighting  without  a  morsel  of  food. 

What  was  to  be  done  now?  With  deliverance  ap- 
parently so  near,  would  they,  in  their  famished  and  ex- 
hausted condition,  again  be  compelled  to  fight  against 
tremendous  odds? 

They  moved  forward  slowly  and  noiselessly  until 
they  reached  a  point  whence,  through  openings  be- 
tween the  trees,  the  towers  and  raised  drawbridge 
of  Waldhorst  could  be  seen.  Here  they  halted,  while 
Conrad  wistfully  surveyed  the  high,  irregular  forti- 
fications of  the  castle.  As  his  eyes  roamed  from  one 
point  to  another,  he  suddenly  descried  a  young  girl 
seated  at  a  window  in  one  of  the  farthest  towers  and 
busily  engaged  in  some  special  work.  She  was  at  so 
great  a  distance  that  the  knight  could  scarcely  dis- 
tinguish her  features,  but  on  calling  the  Duke's  at- 
tention to  her,  they  thought  they  recognized  her  as 
Volga.  It  was  then  that  an  idea  occurred  to  Duke 
Henry,  which  being  immediately  acted  upon,  proved 


WAR.  177 

the  salvation  of /the  brave  little  band,  by  almost  a  mir- 
acle. 

He  recalled  a  peculiar  signal  of  distress,  known 
only  to  himself,  the  late  Count  Hans,  Hugo  and 
Volga,  which  they  had  always  used  in  the  chase ;  and 
he  felt  sure  that  should  it  reach  the  ears  of  the  young 
girl,  even  from  so  great  a  distance,  she  would  com- 
prehend its  meaning.  Taking  from  his  pocket  a  whis- 
tle, he  gave  its  loud,  shrill  note  twice  in  quick  succes- 
sion. A  sentinel,  not  thirty  yards  off,  started,  halted 
and  peered  into  the  dense  shadows  of  the  woods.  Dis- 
covering nothing  and  thinking  he  had  heard  the  shrill 
note  of  some  forest  bird,  he  resumed  his  beat. 

The  form  at  the  window,  as  they  had  rightly  sur- 
mised was  Volga,  who  was  making  bandages  for  the 
wounded  by  the  fast  waning  light. 

She  sprang  up  at  the  familiar  signal,  and  looked  in- 
quiringly toward  the  wood  whence  it  seemed  to  come. 

By  the  last  rays  of  the  disappearing  sun,  she  per- 
ceived in  the  shadow  of  the  trees,  someone  waving  his 
mailed  hand,  and  the  truth  flashed  upon  her.  Mak- 
ing a  quick  responsive  motion,  to  the  great  joy  and 
relief  of  the  anxious  friends,  she  left  the  window,  and 
hurrying  with  all  speed  down  tortuous  stairways  to 
the  courtyard,  found  Hugo.  To  him  she  communi- 
cated what  she  had  heard  and  seen.  The  young  Count 

of  Waldhorst  lost  no  time  in  deciding  upon  a  strategic 
12 


178         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

ruse  which  might  secure  to  any  of  his  friends  in  dis- 
tress admittance  into  the  castle. 

On  the  lookout  from  their  hiding-place  for  some 
sign  of  coming  assistance,  Conrad  and  the  Duke  sud- 
denly descried  a  figure,  flag  in  hand,  on  the  slowly 
descending  drawbridge.  As  it  stopped  half  way  in 
its  descent,  they  recognized  Hugo,  waving  the  red  and 
white  ensign  of  Waldhorst  toward  their  hiding-place. 

The  two  sentinels  stationed  at  the  moat  at  first 
imagined  that  the  bearer  of  the  flag  desired  an  in- 
terview with  some  knight  in  command  in  order  to 
make  terms  for  the  surrender  of  the  castle.  When, 
however,  the  bridge  stopped  half  way,  and  they  saw  it 
was  not  the  snow  white  flag  of  truce,  they  fiercely 
shouted  to  Hugo  to  explain  the  purpose.  Receiving 
no  answer,  they  were  about  to  report  to  their  chief  the 
singular  actions  of  the  flag-bearer,  when  a  great  shout 
burst  upon  their  ears  and  resounded  throughout  the 
camp. 

It  came  from  the  throats  of  some  sixty,  thirsty, 
hungry  and  weary  lanzknechts,  who,  headed  by  the 
Duke,  with  Conrad  bringing  up  the  rear,  were  making 
for  the  drawbridge  on  a  full  run.  The  wooden  struc- 
ture was  quickly  lowered  by  willing  hands  to  meet 
them.  The  Duke  with  his  foremost  men  reached  it 
before  the  Pomeranians  were  sufficiently  recovered 
from  their  astonishment  to  make  a  move.  The  camp, 


WAR.  179 

however,  was  in  an  uproar.  A  body  of  men  armed 
with  pikes,  succeeded  in  gaining  the  bridge  just  as 
Conrad,  with  a  chosen  few,  confronted  them.  The 
stalwart  knight  cut  down  three  of  the  foremost  of  the 
enemy  with  his  battle-axe,  which,  in  the  absence  of 
his  father's  trusty  blade,  he  used  that  day.  Keeping 
the  rest  at  bay  until  the  last  of  his  men  had  gained  the 
courtyard,  he  stepped  backward,  shouting  the  com- 
mand to  raise  the  bridge. 

At  that  moment  an  immensely  tall,  unarmed  Pom- 
eranian sprang  to  his  side,  grappling  with  him  at  such 
close  quarters  that  it  was  impossible  for  Conrad  to 
use  his  weapon.  As  the  bridge  rose  higher  and  high- 
er the  two  antagonists  fell  backward,  rolling  over  and 
over  each  other  until  they  reached  the  courtyard. 

There  Conrad,  with  the  assistance  of  his  friends, 
would  have  made  short  work  with  the  big  fellow  who 
had  taken  him  unawares ;  but,  to  the  great  amazement 
of  the  bystanders,  who  had  watched  this  novel  encoun- 
ter with  interest,  just  as  Conrad  raised  his  battle-axe 
the  long-legged  miscreant  fell  on  his  knees,  begging 
for  mercy.  "I  only  grappled  with  you,  Sir  Knight," 
he  said,  "because  I  wanted  to  get  away  from  that 
camp.  I  could  think  of  no  better  way  than  boarding 
the  drawbridge  while  in  motion,  and  taking  hold  of 
you,  noble  sir,  in  order  to  prevent  your  splitting  my 
head  and  throwing  me  into  the  moat." 


180         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

"Didst  thou  then  mean  to  desert  Prince  Steffel?" 
asked  Conrad,  suppressing  a  strong  inclination  to 
laugh. 

"'I  did,  Sir  Knight,"  replied  the  man.  "That  brute 
compelled  me,  as  he  did  many  others,  to  enlist  at  the 
point  of  the  sword.  They  are  all  afraid  of  him,  good 
sir,  and  remain  in  his  service  from  fear  alone.  He 
gives  them  plenty  of  beer  and  promises  them  generous 
wages  after  taking  this  castle." 

"Thou  art  almost  as  large  as  he  is,"  said  Conrad, 
much  amused.  "What  is  thy  name?" 

"My  name  is  Peter  Longshanks,"  replied  the  man. 
"I  am  quite  as  large  as  the  Prince,  and  some  day  I 
hope  to  measure  myself  with  him,  as  I  did  with  your 
lordship,  begging  your  pardon." 

"Wjell  then,  Peter,"  interposed  Hugo,  "thou  may'st 
remain  with  us ;  but  mind  that  thou  dost  not  play  us 
false,  else  thy  last  hour,  which  but  just  now  was  close 
at  hand^  will  most  surely  strike." 

At  his  own  request  he  was  put  to  work,  cleaning  the 
courtyard  and  stables.  Though  lie  seemed  to  do  his 
task  thoroughly  and  with  a  will,  the  young  master  of 
Waldhorst  put  a  watch  on  him  most  of  the  time,  as 
he  feared  to  trust  him  too  implicitly. 

What  was  left  of  the  small  band  was  once  more 
safe  within  the«walls  of  the  fortress;  but  at  roll  call 
many  were  found  to  be  wounded,  and  a  still  larger 


WAR.  181 

number  were  missing.  Volga's  bandages  came  into 
use  sooner  than  she  expected,  Conrad  being  the  first 
one  to  need  them.  His  wounds  she  dressed  with  her 
own  hands.  He  felt  well  enough  to  be  present,  when, 
late  in  the  evening,  after  all  had  been  cared  for,  such 
of  them  as  were  able  to  sat  down  in  the  banquet  hall  to 
a  well-earned  repast.  Of  the  missing  faces  many  would 
never  again  be  seen  at  any  gathering;  the  women  of 
the  household  mourned  the  loss  of  husbands,  brothers 
or  sons. 

It  was  a  sad  ending  to  the  hopeful  beginning  of 
that  day.  Great  fears  were  expressed  for  the  safety 
of  the  small  party  which  they  felt  assured  the  Princess 
Ursula  had  sent  to  their  aid. 

No  one  could  foretell  the  outcome  of  this  savage 
war,  thus  suddenly  sprung  upon  them,  and  which 
they  must  carry  on  against  vastly  superior  numbers. 

The  Duke  was  deeply  anxious  on  account  of  his  be- 
loved wife  and  daughter.  Conrad's  thoughts  of  his 
betrothed  were  mingled  with  sad  forebodings. 


182         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

KURT'S  ADVENTURE. 

"This  work  requires  long  time,  dissembling  looks, 

Commixt  with  undermining  actions, 

Watching  advantages  to  execute. 

Our  foes  are  mighty  and  their  number  great; 

It  therefore  follows  that  our  stratagems 

Must  branch  forth  into  manifold  deceits, 

Endless  devices,  bottomless  conclusions." 

— Chapman's  Alphonsus. 

At  the  Fortress  of  Falkenstein  the  days  which  fol- 
lowed were  sad  ones,  indeed,  for  the  Princess,  her 
mother,  and  Wolfram. 

As  week  succeeded  week  without  tidings,  save  the 
vague  rumor  that  Duke  Henry  and  Conrad,  both  dis- 
abled and  wounded,  had  been  driven  back  within  the 
walls  of  Waldhorst,  Ursula  became  almost  frantic. 
Knowing  that  it  would  be  folly  to  risk  another  battle 
in  hope  of  relieving  them  with  a  force  inferior  to  that 
which  had  already  sustained  defeat,  she  finally  de- 
cided with  what  assistance  she  could  obtain  to  make 
an  attempt  to  reach  Waldhorst  in  secret. 


KURT'S  ADVENTURE.  183 

Kurt,  at  his  own  request,  went  on  several  expedi- 
tions necessary  to  this  end,  his  swift  Hungarian  horse 
carrying  him  safely  through  all  dangers. 

By  the  end  of  six  weeks,  about  the  beginning  of 
winter,  the  knights  and  squires  who  had  been  gath- 
ered together  by  the  indefatigable  Princess,  amounting 
in  all  to  about  five  hundred  men,  were  quartered  in 
and  around  Falkenstein.  Determined  to  steal  a  march 
on  Prince  Steffel,  she  planned  to  attack  that  part  of 
his  army  which  was  encamped  about  Waldhorst,  be- 
fore meeting  him  in  open  field ;  thus  avoiding  another 
battle  without  the  co-operation  of  her  father  and  Con- 
rad. In  this  venture,  she  took  command  in  person, 
relying,  however,  on  the  advice  of  Wolfram,  whom  she 
kept  at  her  side. 

Having  expressed  a  desire  to  apprise  the  inmates  of 
Waldhorst  of  her  intended  move  for  their  relief,  Kurt 
volunteered  his  services,  saying  that  he  believed  he 
could  approach  the  fortress  at  dark,  and,  unperceived 
by  the  enemy,  drop  into  the  moat,  to  be  fished  out  by 
his  friends  at  the  castle. 

Ursula  endeavored  to  dissuade  the  brave  boy  from 
so  perilous  an  undertaking,  but  he  begged  and  per- 
sisted, telling  her  that  he  felt  sure  of  reaching  the  cas- 
tle ;  and  protested  that  should  he  be  captured,  he  would 
not,  even  under  penalty  of  death,  impart  the  least  in- 
formation to  her  enemies. 


184          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

As  the  Princess  knew  the  importance  of  keeping 
Prince  Steffel  in  ignorance  of  her  intended  move,  and 
felt  sure  that  she  could  rely  implicitly  on  her  faith- 
ful attendant,  she  finally  agreed  to  let  him  go,  sending 
by  him  a  verbal  message  to  her  father  and  Conrad, 
which  would  inform  them  of  her  purpose  to  bring 
them  relief.  She  little  knew  that  spies  had  already 
apprised  Prince  Steffel  of  her  intended  movement. 

To  understand  fully  the  nature  of  the  events  which 
followed,  it  will  be  necessary  for  us  to  accompany  the 
brave  boy  on  his  adventures. 

Starting  on  a  cold  wintery  morn,  Kurt,  in  passing 
through  the  desolate  country,  laid  waste  by  Prince 
Steffel,  noticed  here  and  there  newly  ploughed 
fields  and  farmhouses  with  smoking  chimneys.  He 
rode  rapidly  until  he  entered  the  woods,  which  gave 
him  protection  from  the  piercing  wind.  There  he  al- 
lowed his  horse  to  proceed  at  an  easier  gait.  He  rest- 
ed that  night  under  a  blanket  which  covered  both  man 
and  beast,  on  a  hillside  not  far  from  the  dilapidated 
ruins  of  Grunau.  The  buildings  themselves  he  avoid- 
ed, not  on  account  of  the  prevailing  superstition,  but 
from  fear  that  some  of  the  Pomeranians  might  be  quar- 
tered there.  After  feeding  his  horse  with  a  large  loaf 
of  bread,  and  breakfasting  himself  on  a  smaller  one,  he 
proceeded  on  his  way.  The  country  grew  so  wild  that, 
for  a  time,  he  was  obliged  to  keep  to  the  open  road. 


KURT'S  ADVENTURE.  185 

Dressed  in  his  plain  woolen  suit,  no  one  noticed 
him,  however.  He  re-entered  the  byways  of  the  pro- 
tecting woods,  and  after  another  rest  and  a  frugal  mid- 
day meal,  reached,  late  in  the  afternoon,  a  wide  bridle 
path  diverging  from  the  river,  by  which,  from  the  de- 
scription given  him,  he  knew  he  could  reach  Waldhorst 
Castle  in  about  an  hour  by  way  of  the  public  ford. 

No  one  was  in  sight.  As  it  was  near  dusk,  the  boy 
imagined  that,  at  so  late  an  hour,  the  enemy  would 
most  likely  be  in  camp;  or,  in  case  he  were  to  meet 
any  of  them,  he  would  again  be  allowed  to  pass  un- 
molested. Everything  seemed  clear  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach.  With  an  unwarranted  sense  of  security, 
he  gave  his  little  horse  loose  rein,  putting  him  into  a 
gallop.  But  alas!  at  a  sudden  turn  in  the  road  he 
came,  full  tilt,  upon  a  detachment  of  horsemen  on  their 
way  to  join  Prince  Steffel. 

Kurt  had  been  riding  so  rapidly  and  had  come  upon 
this  force  so  unexpectedly,  he  was  almost  unhorsed 
by  his  sudden  halt.  His  dismay  may  be  imagined  on 
recognizing  the  enemy.  Unable  at  so  short  notice  to 
invent  some  satisfactory  account  of  himself,  he  was 
suspected  and  made  prisoner. 

They  tied  his  hands  behind  him,  and  led  the  poor, 
faithful  boy  back  the  way  be  came.  At  the  end  of  a 
long,  cold  ride,  they  arrived  at  the  Pomeranian  camp 
after  midnight,  just  as  the  cheerless,  waning  moon 


186          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

rose  behind  the  hills.  He  was  forthwith  brought  be- 
fore Prince  Steffel.  The  drowsy  giant  hardly  noticed 
his  young  prisoner,  but  when  he  learned  that  he  per- 
sistently refused  to  give  an  account  of  himself,  he 
ordered  him  to  be  bound  hand  and  foot  and  cast  into 
a  neighboring  pigsty  to  die. 

Kurt's  faithful  steed  was  given  to  a  young  lanz- 
knecht  who  had  enlisted  that  day,  and  had  his  quarters 
in  a  rickety  shed  adjoining  the  pen. 

As  he  lay  there  perfectly  helpless,  the  poor  lad 
begged  his  young  guard  for  a  drink  of  water  from  a 
well  near  by,  but  received,  instead,  a  kick,  followed  by 
a  brutal  laugh,  as  the  heartless  fellow  re-entered  the 
shed. 

The  ropes  which  bound  our  young  courier  were 
drawn  so  tightly  as  to  stop  circulation.  His  hands  and 
feet  became  painfully  swollen;  moreover,  his  filthy 
quarters  had  only  been  vacated  that  day  by  their  un- 
savory inmates,  and  were  almost  unbearable  on  ac- 
count of  their  stench. 

Kurt  thought  of  his  adored  mistress.  Tears  came 
into  his  eyes  as  he  remembered  how  she  had  warned 
him.  As  he  became  cold  and  dizzy  he  felt  that  there 
was  some  consolation,  however,  in  dying  in  her  cause. 
Believing  that  his  last  hour  had  come,  he  commended 
his  soul  to  God.  The  pale  moon  danced  before  his 
eyes;  he  closed  them  and  became  unconscious. 


KURT'S  ADVENTURE.  187 

The  tipsy  hireling  had  meanwhile  doffed  his  outer 
clothing,  and  hanging  his  hilted  knife,  a  half  sword 
then  used  by  the  common  men-at-arms,  on  a  nail  near 
•the  door,  had  thrown  himself  on  the  floor  beside  his 
newly  acquired  and  restless  steed.  As  he  fell  into 
a  deep,  drunken  sleep,  the  intelligent  animal  nosed 
him,  and  finding  not  his  master,  neighed  impatiently. 
The  familiar  sound  fell  upon  Kurt's  ear,  partly  restor- 
ing him  to  consciousness.  There  being  only  a  frail 
partition  between  them,  he  heard  the  faithful  beast 
moving  in  his  stall  and  the  heavy  breathing  of  the 
sleeping  recruit.  His  mind  became  clearer.  A  de- 
sire to  make  a  fight  for  life  took  possession  of  him. 
Rolling  over  and  over  sideways  and  against  the  shed, 
he  secured  a  sitting  position,  and  succeeded,  by  grad- 
ually working  his  back  upwards  along  the  creaking 
boards,  in  obtaining  a  standing  one.  In  spite  of  his 
still  desperate  condition  he  gained  courage.  Balanc- 
ing himself  on  his  fettered  feet,  he  managed  to  shuffle 
along,  little  by  little,  until  he  rounded  the  shed. 

As  he  looked  within  he  saw  by  the  moonlight  the 
glittering  blade  suspended  on  the  wall.  This  decided 
him  further.  Eagerly  groping  his  way  to  this  much 
coveted  prize,  and  taking  it  firmly  between  his  teeth, 
he  made  his  laborious  way  out  again.  The  first  object 
that  his  eyes  rested  on  was  the  well,  quite  near,  but  far 
from  him  in  his  crippled  condition. 


188         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

Moving  painfully  and  slowly  as  before,  he  came 
close  enough  to  discover  on  its  ledge  a  leaky  bucket 
from  which  drops  of  water  were  oozing.  He  was  near- 
ly frantic  with  thirst.  In  his  anxiety  to  reach  it,  he 
fell,  knocking  his  head  violently  against  the  well.  The 
weapon  dropped  from  between  his  teeth,  with  its  point 
sticking  against  the  side  of  the  wooden  structure.  In- 
stantly a  mode  of  freeing  himself  suggested  itself  to 
the  poor  lad.  While  still  on  his  knees  he  managed, 
with  his  teeth,  to  secure  the  blade  in  a  crevice  in  the 
boards,  its  hilt  wedged  against  a  stone  in  the  grass. 
Then  throwing  himself  down  at  full  length,  he  lifted 
his  bound  feet,  and  cautiously  placing  his  heels  down 
on  either  side  of  it,  he  brought  the  rope  in  contact 
with  its  sharp  edge.  After  moving  his  swollen  limbs 
up  and  down  for  what  seemed  an  interminable  length 
of  time,  he  finally  succeeded,  to  his  great  joy,  in  sev- 
ering the  cord.  He  managed,  as  the  circulation  of  his 
limbs  returned,  to  stand  upright  for  a  few  moments. 
Almost  immediately,  however,  he  got  down  again  and 
with  feverish  haste  endeavored  to  use  the  same  de- 
vice in  extricating  his  hands.  This  proved  a  more 
difficult  task.  Panting,  and  perspiring,  notwithstand- 
ing the  cold  night,  and  parched  with  thirst,  his  brain 
seemed  nearly  on  fire,  as  he  kept  on  pressing  his  body 
back  against  the  blade.  At  length,  he  succeeded  in 
freeing  his  hands  also,  not,  however,  without  having 
cut  them  in  several  places. 


KURT'S  ADVENTURE.  189 

With  wild  joy  he  siezed  the  bucket.  Filling  it 
with  mad  speed,  he  nearly  spilled  half  its  contents  in 
his  eagerness  before  it  reached  his  lips.  He  drew  a 
deep  sigh  of  relief  as  he  satisfied  his  thirst.  His  first 
thought  was  thankfulness  to  God  that  he  had  been 
enabled  to  extricate  himself  from  so  dreadful  a  plight. 
The  reaction  then  came.  Sitting  shivering  in  the  cold 
wind,  he  soon  became  aware  that  more  was  to  be  done, 
and  that  speedily.  Grasping  the  weapon  he  re-entered 
the  shed.  There  in  the  moonshine  lay  the  sleeping 
young  lanzknecht.  Kurt's  heart  misgave  him  for  a 
moment  as  he  stood  with  that  short  blade  poised  at  his 
unconscious  victim's  side.  His  horse  neighed.  Fear- 
ing that  the  sound  might  awake  the  sleeper,  it  decided 
him. 

Drawing  it  across  the  throat  of  the  young  soldier, 
he  unconsciously  used  so  much  nervous  force  as  nearly 
to  sever  the  head  from  the  body.  The  sight  of, the 
first  blood  he  had  ever  spilt  sickened  him.  He  shud- 
dered. Dropping  the  blade,  which  thus  far  had  served 
him  so  well,  he  rushed  to  the  side  of  his  little  horse, 
which  gave  another  impatient  neigh  and  turned  his 
head  toward  him.  He  placed  his  arm  around  him, 
speaking  to  him  aloud.  The  sound  of  his  voice  re- 
assured him.  As  he  looked  upon  the  dawning  day, 
the  thought  of  his  beloved  mistress,  Ursula,  whom  he 
might  live  to  see  again,  fully  restored  his  courage. 


190         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

He  wiped  the  bloody  weapon,  pulled  off  his  outer 
garments,  took  down  from  the  wall  those  of  the  dead 
man  and  found  to  his  joy  that  they  fitted  him  exactly. 
Noticing  that  the  Pomeranian's  face  somewhat  resem- 
bled his  own,  Kurt  hoped,  thus  attired,  to  pass  for  the 
young  soldier  among  his  comrades,  possibly  as  yet  but 
half  recovered  from  the  night's  debauch. 

Throwing  the  dead  body,  together  with  his  own 
cast-off  clothing  into  the  pigsty,  he  washed  his  blood- 
stained hands  at  the  well  and  returned  to  the  shed. 
Then  disposing  of  the  straw  in  such  a  manner  that  no 
trace  of  blood  might  be  visible,  he  saddled  his  horse. 

Hardly  had  he  done  this  when  he  was  startled  by 
the  sound  of  a  bugle.  Looking  about,  he  noticed  in 
the  distance  a  number  of  men  seated  before  a  roaring 
fire,  enjoying  their  breakfast.  Hunger  and  cold  de- 
cided him  to  make  a  bold  move.  He  approached  the 
Pomeranian  hirelings  and  asked  for  a  bite.  They  care- 
lessly eyed  the  boy  and  made  room  for  him  good- 
naturedly.  One  of  them  asked  him  if  he  were  not  the 
young  recruit  who  had  enlisted  the  night  before. 
Trembling  within,  he  answered  in  the  affirmative ;  and 
in  order  to  avoid  further  questioning,  inquired  if  there 
was  to  be  any  fighting  that  day. 

"Indeed,  yes,  my  boy,"  replied  one  of  the  men ;  "we 
are  under  orders  to  intercept  the  Princess  of  Falken- 
stein  on  her  way  to  Waldhorst  Castle." 


KURT'S  ADVENTURE.  191 

Kurt,  horror-struck,  was  unable  to  speak;  and 
thinking  of  his  dear  mistress,  whose  movements  he 
had  believed  to  be  secret,  and  for  whose  sake  he  had 
come  near  sacrificing  his  life  the  night  before,  he  grew 
pale,  and  his  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

The  dull  fellows  looked  at  him  half  amazed  and  half 
compassionately,  thinking  that  he  shrank  from  the 
thought  of  his  first  battle.  Presently  they  spoke  to 
him  reassuringly,  telling  him  that  in  all  probability 
he  would  be  placed  in  the  rear  as  an  attendant  to  one 
of  the  knights. 

A  few  moments  later  the  bugle  sounded,  To  arms ! 
fhe  lanzknechts  mounted  and  fell  into  line.  As  the 
boy,  elated  with  the  success  of  his  masquerade,  in  a 
spirit  of  bravado  rode  boldly  along  their  entire  length, 
the  attention  of  everyone  was  attracted  by  his  fine 
horse,  as  well  as  by  his  graceful  figure  and  splendid 
horsemanship.  Among  those  most  interested  was 
Prince  Steffel  himself,  who  had  just  come  upon  the 
scene,  mounted  on  an  immense  white-  charger.  He 
summoned  the  youthful  rider  to  his  side. 

Poor  Kurt's  heart  sank  within  him.  He  naturally 
thought  all  was  lost,  and  that  fortune,  which  had  so 
far  smiled  upon  his  efforts  to  escape,  was  now  about  to 
desert  him.  At  the  Prince's  abrupt  question :  "Where 
didst  thou  learn  to  ride  so  well  ?"  he  was  somewhat  re- 
assured, answering  with  readiness,  though  hardly 


192         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

knowing  what  he  said :  "I  was  brought  up  on  horse- 
back, please  your  Highness,  and  for  that  reason  I 
joined  your  mounted  men." 

"Oh,  is  that  so?"  said  the  Prince.  "I  thought  thou 
hadst  been  pulled  in  by  force.  Be  that  as  it  may,"  he 
continued,  much  to  the  relief  of  the  frightened  boy, 
"as  thou  bearest  thyself  so  well  on  horseback,  I  will 
make  thee  my  sword-bearer,  and  also  give  my  led 
horse  into  thy  charge  during  the  coming  fray.  Mind 
thou  dost  thy  duty,"  he  added.  "Follow  me!" 

Kurt,  whose  fears  were  quieted  by  the  manner  of 
the  Prince,  felt  his  blood  grow  hot  with  hatred  toward 
him,  and  he  was  seized  with  a  desire  to  dispose  of  this 
arch-enemy  of  his  mistress  by  the  same  method  he  had 
used  with  the  young  hireling  whom  he  was  now  im- 
personating. 

His  first  taste  of  real  warfare  had  engendered  a 
thirst  for  blood,  far  from  natural  to  the  youthful  hench- 
man of  Ursula.  Her  danger  but  heightened  this  war- 
like disposition,  and  he  resolved  that  before  the  day 
was  over  he  would,  indeed,  "do  his  duty"  toward 
Prince  Steffel,  but  in  a  manner  little  expected  by  that 
valiant  commander. 

How  far  this  resolution  was  carried  out  will  be  re- 
vealed in  the  next  chapter. 


HOW  KURT  SERVED  PRINCE  STEFFEL.      193 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

HOW  KURT  SERVED  PRINCE  STEFFEL. 

"I  follow  him  to  serve  my  turn  upon  him; 
We  cannot  be  all  masters,  nor  all  masters 
Cannot  be  truly  followed." 

—Shaks.  Othello. 

As  we  are  already  aware,  the  Pomeranian  Prince 
had  been  informed  of  Ursula's  projected  movements. 
He  had  thrown  the  main  body  of  his  forces  to 
the  left  bank  of  the  river,  while  maintaining  con- 
stant communication  with  the  besiegers  of  Wald- 
horst.  He  was  thus  prepared  to  intercept  and 
give  battle  to  the  Princess  at  almost  any  point.  As  a 
consequence,  that  brave  woman,  with  her  gallant 
knights  and  followers,  had  hardly  left  the  ruins  of 
Grunau  in  the  early  morning,  and  entered  the  back 
road  to  Waldhofst,  when  she  was  confronted  by  the 
enemy's  advance  guard,  disputing  the  way.  Not 
knowing  the  extent  of  the  force  opposed  to  her,  she 
steadily  advanced,  driving  them  back  toward  the  river, 

13 


194         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

where,  to  her  surprise  and  disappointment,  she  sud- 
denly encountered  the  main  body  of  the  Pomeranian 
knights.  Nothing  was  left  for  her  to  do  but  to  give 
battle  to  this  formidable  array,  which  far  outnumbered 
her  own  force.  For  a  long  time  it  looked  as  though 
the  inspiring  example  of  the  Princess  and  Knight 
Wolfram  would  gain  the  day,  and  that  they  would  be 
enabled  to  continue  their  march  to  Waldhorst.  But 
when  Prince  Steffel,  rousing  from  one  of  his  lazy  fits, 
came  to  the  fr6nt  and  saw  Ursula  on  her  beautiful 
Saladin,  surrounded  by  a  host  of  gallant  knights,  and 
his  own  knights,  squires  and  vassals  wavering  before 
their  impetuous  onslaughts,  he  placed  himself  at  the 
head  of  his  mounted  lanzknechts,  with  Kurt  close  at 
his  heels,  and  made  a  furious  attack  on  his  oppo- 
nent's flank. 

A  desperate  hand  to  hand  fight  ensued,  lasting  fully 
an  hour.  By  that  time  Ursula  had  lost  nearly  one-half 
of  her  little  army,  but  she  had  inflicted  a  correspond- 
ingly heavy  loss  on  the  superior  force  opposed  to  her, 
and  still  held  her  ground. 

Brave  Knight  Wolfram  had  slain  with  his  own 
hand  many  an  adversary,  and  though  wounded,  re- 
mained at  the  front,  while  keeping  as  usual  out  of 
Prince  Steffel's  reach.  The  irate  commander,  how- 
ever, was  now  seen  cutting  his  way  toward  him.  Ur- 
sula saw  his  intention  and  prayed  for  her  knight's  de- 


HOW  KURT  SERVED  PRINCE  STEFFEL.      195 

liverance.  Wolfram,  finding  that  he  could  no  longer 
evade  him,  prepared  to  meet  the  onset.  Bracing  him- 
self in  his  saddle  he  raised  his  strong  sword,  together 
with  his  shield,  to  ward  off  the  expected  blows,  and  to 
retaliate  upon  his  dangerous  foe.  The  giant  bore 
down  upon  him  on  his  immense  charger,  but,  by  some 
subtle  intervention,  the  blow  which  he  had  dealt  with 
tremendous  force  fell  short,  though  splitting  his  op- 
ponent's shield  in  its  descent.  The  Prince's  horse 
reared  violently  as  a  knife  thrust  penetrated  its  vitals. 
Pawing  the  air  for  a  moment,  he  fell  backward,  crush- 
ing to  earth  under  its  ponderous  weight  the  massive 
bulk  of  its  burly  rider. 

Wolfram  was  saved.  During  the  confusion  subse- 
quent upon  the  great  leader's  fall,  he  was  enabled  to 
rally  his  scattered  forces  in  order  to  resist  any  new 
attack  which  might  be  made. 

The  Prince,  half  stunned  and  badly  bruised,  was  ex- 
tricated with  great  difficulty  from  beneath  his  dead 
horse.  Hardly  able  to  stand,  he  called  for  his  led 
horse. 

Neither  the  animal  nor  Kurt  could  be  found,  though 
both  had  been  seen  a  few  minutes  before  close  at 
hand.  Search  being  fruitless,  the  Prince,  feeling  woe- 
fully shaken  by  his  mishap,  ordered  his  knights  to  con- 
tinue the  fight,  and  rode  to  the  rear  on  the  horse  of  one 
of  his  retainers. 


196          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

The  Princess  and  Wolfram,  meanwhile,  had  held  a 
short  conference,  and  concluded  that  it  would  be  most 
advisable,  in  their  crippled  condition,  to  begin  an  or- 
derly retreat  on  Falkenstein.  Though  again  foiled  in 
her  attempt  to  relieve  her  friends  at  Waldhorst,  Ursu- 
la was  none  the  less  thankful  when,  two  days  later,  she 
reached  her  castle,  bringing  back  with  her  her  gallant 
wounded  commander  and  one-half  of  her  brave  fol- 
lowers. After  seeing  the  wounded  cared  for,  with  a 
forced  expression  of  cheerfulness  she  withdrew. 
Finding  her  mother,  she  threw  herself  into  her  loving 
arms,  weeping  bitterly. 

"All  seems  lost,  darling  mother,"  she  cried.  "My 
father  and  Conrad  are  still  prisoners  at  Waldhorst,  and 
a  large  and  victorious  army,  which  has  already  re- 
duced every  stronghold  in  this  and  the  adjoining  val- 
leys, threatens  to  destroy  that  fortress  also.  Winter  is 
at  hand  and  it  would  be  useless,  now,  to  make  any  fur- 
ther attempt  at  relief  or  rescue.  We  must  wait  till 
spring,  and  then,  God  willing,  the  assistance  promised 
by  our  brave  ally  of  Luxemburg  will  arrive.  Will  it 
be  possible  for  those  we  love  to  hold  out  till  then  ?  I 
doubt  it !  All  that  we  can  do,  dear  mother,  is  to  pray  to 
God  that  they  may  be  preserved  from  harm  and  re- 
stored to  us." 

"Thou  hast  found  the  true  consolation  in  thy 
troubles,  my  darling  daughter,"  said  the  Duchess ;  "let 


HOW  KURT  SERVED  PRINCE  STEFFEL.      197 

us  trust  in  God  and  in  his  own  good  time  He  may  see 
fit  to  reunite  us." 

After  thus  communing  with  each  other,  these  two 
noble  women  felt  calmer  and  more  resigned  to  fate, 
though  each  succeeding  day  proved  the  more  trying 
to  both  mother  and  daughter. 

Where  was  Kurt  ?  Not  even  had  he  returned.  Not 
only  were  they  in  suspense  as  to  the  fate  of  the  be- 
loved ones  besieged  at  Waldhorst,  but  also  on  account 
of  the  brave  boy  who  had  set  out  to  join  them,  fearing 
that  he  had  met  some  untoward  accident. 

Wolfram's  wounds  required  constant  care,  and  as 
his  own  castle  had  been  rendered  uninhabitable  by 
the  Prince's  marauders,  he  was  quartered  in  one  of  the 
most  luxurious  bedrooms  at  Falkenstein,  where  Ur- 
sula was  indefatigable  in  her  attentions  to  his  com- 
fort. One  can  well  imagine  that  her  adoring  knight 
and  minstrel  could  recover  more  rapidly  than  he  would 
have  done  under  less  agreeable  circumstances. 

The  inmates  of  the  fortress  of  Waldhorst  were,  how- 
ever, not  without  tidings  from  the  Princess.  On  the 
night  following  the  battle,  Hugo,  Volga  and  Conrad 
were,  as  usual,  exercising  their  horses  in  the  court- 
yard, when  suddenly  the  latter,  happening  to  be  near 
the  moat,  heard  a  splash  and  immediately  afterward  a 
voice  calling  for  help. 

It  was  Kurt,  whom  his  master,  with  wonder  and  de- 


198          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

light,  recognized  even  in  the  darkness.  The  young 
adventurer  was  speedily  rescued  from  the  icy  water, 
in  a  half  frozen  condition,  and  a  few  moments  later 
found  himself  in  a  snug  bedroom,  thawing  between 
warm  blankets,  with  Conrad  and  Duke  Henry  stand- 
ing at  his  bedside.  Volga,  who  gave  him  a  warm 
drink,  sat  down  near  Hugo  at  the  other  end  of  the 
room. 

Kurt,  poor  fellow,  was  at  first  unable  to  articulate  a 
word  between  his  chattering  teeth,  but  he  soon  re- 
covered sufficiently  to  deliver  to  his  kind  and  anxious 
friends  the  purport  of  the  many  messages  he  had 
brought  to  them  from  Falkenstein.  As  soon,  how- 
ever, as  he  began  to  describe  his  capture,  and  the  bat- 
tle in  which  he  had  so  singularly  participated,  he  be- 
came feverish  and  so  much  confused  in  his  recital, 
that  the  Duke,  after  having  learned  by  a  few  direct 
questions  that  Ursula  and  Wolfram  had  in  all  prob- 
ability retreated  safely  to  Falkenstein,  advised  the 
boy  to  be  quiet  and  sleep  if  possible,  postponing  the 
details  of  his  narrative  to  another  day. 

They  were  greatly  distressed  to  learn  of  Ursula's 
failure  in  her  second  attempt  to  aid  them.  But,  as  they 
had  gathered  from  Kurt's  answers  that  assistance  from 
the  Markgraf  of  Luxemburg  would  reach  them  in  the 
spring,  they  decided  to  defend  Waldhorst  to  the  last, 
and  took  immediate  measures  to  economize  the  pro- 


HOW  KURT  SERVED  PRINCE  STEFFEL.      199 

visions  to  make  it  surely  possible  to  hold  out  through 
the  winter. 

On  the  day  following,  the  poor  boy  was  in  a  high 
state  of  fever,  bordering  on  delirium,  and  remained 
so  for  nearly  a  week.  At  last  one  morning  he  regaled 
his  interested  listeners  with  the  story  of  his  adventures, 
concluding  thus:  "I  accompanied  the  big  Prince 
to  the  battlefield  as  his  sword-bearer,  and  led 
his  gigantic  brown  horse.  We  remained  for  a  consid- 
erable time  in  the  rear,  while  the  conflict  was  raging, 
and  I  kept  close  to  the  side  of  my  new  master,  revolv- 
ing in  my  mind  the  while  what  I  might  do,  even  at 
the  risk  of  my  life,  to  serve  him  as  he  deserved  and 
prevent  his  doing  any  further  harm  to  anybody. 

"A  little  later,  as  he  rode  forward  and  attacked  the 
Princess  Ursula  and  her  knights  in  the  flank,  I  had 
hard  work  even  to  keep  up  with  him,  impeded  as  I 
was  by  the  led  horse.  When  at  last  I  saw  him  deal- 
ing death  around,  and  cutting  his  way  toward  Knight 
Wolfram,  I  abandoned  the  big  steed,  and  on  my  Hun- 
garian, managed  to  keep  close  at  his  heels.  I  was 
desperately  anxious  to  circumvent  him  before  he  could 
reach  our  brave  leader,  but  was  unable  to  do  so  un- 
til the  last  moment.  Quickly  dismounting,  I  threw 
myself  in  front  of  his  horse,  and  as  the  Prince  raised 
his  powerful  arm  to  deal  the  knight  a  death  blow,  I 
ran  my  small  sword  into  his  poor  steed's  heart.  The 


200          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

big  animal  reared  and  fell  backward  upon  his  master, 
crushing  him  under  his  dead  body.  Brave  Knight 
Wolfram  was  safe !  I  saw  no  more,  but  amid  the  con- 
fusion which  followed  I  succeeded  in  regaining  my  lit- 
tle horse  undiscovered.  Remounting,  I  made  my  way 
to  the  rear.  There  the  Pomeranians  sought  to  detain 
me,  doubtless  deeming  me  a  deserter ;  but  calling  out 
to  them  that  the  Prince  had  despatched  me  to  Wald- 
horst,  I  struck  the  road  in  that  direction  and  gained 
the  woods  before  anyone  could  overtake  me.  From 
a  hill  I  saw  in  the  distance  the  Princess  retreating  un- 
pursued.  At  a  small  clearing,  not  far  from  the  upper 
ford,  where  a  sparkling  spring  keeps  the  late  grass 
alive,  I  abandoned  my  poor  horse.  I  wonder  if  he  is 
still  there;  or  having  wandered  in  search  of  me,  has 
been  captured."  Tears  suffused  the  eyes  of  the  boy 
as  he  thus  spoke  of  his  faithful  steed.  "Later  on,"  he 
concluded,  "I  made  my  way  on  foot,  unmolested, 
through  the  enemy's  camp,  and  dropped  into  the  moat, 
out  of  which,  kind  sirs,  you  fished  me,  half  dead." 

Our  friends  were  highly  delighted  with  the  boy's  re- 
cital and  greatly  praised  him  for  his  courage  and  de- 
votion to  the  Princess.  Most  particularly  did  they 
laud  him  for  his  valiant  deed  at  the  last  critical  mo- 
ment. 

While  they  still  conversed  with  the  gratified  lad, 
they  were  startled  by  the  sudden  entrance  of  Peter 


THE  SIEGE  AND  SURRENDER.  201 

Longshanks,  weil-nigh  breathless,  who  announced 
that  the  enemy  led  by  Prince  Steffel  in  person, 
were  preparing  for  an  assault  on  the  castle.  The 
Prince,  having  recovered  from  his  fall,  had  just  re- 
turned to  camp,  and  he  had  been  heard  to  declare  in 
a  loud  voice  his  determination  to  destroy  the  castle 
and  all  its  inmates  on  that  day. 

Valiant  Peter,  the  deserter,  for  his  many  brave  deeds 
in  defending  Waldhorst  against  former  attacks,  had 
become,  by  that  time,  a  trusted  member  of  the  gar- 
rison, and  that  day  was  placed  on  the  principal  look- 
out. 

The  castle,  greatly  strengthened  since  the  last  of 
these  onslaughts,  now  became  a  scene  of  commotion. 
On  came  the  Pomeranian  knights  backed  by  their 
vassals,  throwing  immense  logs  across  the  moat,  and 
placing  on  top  of  them  scaling  ladders,  which  they 
endeavored  to  raise  against  the  solid  walls  of  the  ram- 
parts. At  each  attempt  they  were  hurled  back,  killed 
or  wounded,  many  of  the  latter  finding  watery  graves 
in  the  treacherous  ditch. 

At  a  point  near  the  drawbridge,  Prince  Steffel  un- 
expectedly succeeded  in  throwing  across  the  moat  two 
great  logs  alongside  of  each  other,  forming  a  tem- 
porary solid  bridge.  As  he  and  several  knights  ad- 
vanced quickly  upon  this  structure,  it  looked  as 
though  they  might  gain  the  battlements  around  the 


202          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

outer  courtyard.  Just  here,  however,  the  brave  Peter 
happened  for  the  moment  to  be  stationed  alone,  with 
instructions  to  give  the  alarm  at  the  first  approach  of 
danger.  The  uproar  around  the  castle  assured  him 
that  a  general  assault  was  taking  place.  Fearing  that 
all  might  be  lost  should  he  leave  his  post  for  a  moment, 
he  decided  to  confront  the  hated  Prince  alone,  even 
though  his  life  might  be  sacrificed. 

Quickly  realizing,  however,  that  he  would  have 
more  than  that  one  detested  adversary  to  encounter, 
it  occurred  to  him  that  the  joint  advance  of  the  knights 
might  be  checked  by  strategy,  and  their  reaching  the 
courtyard  be  prevented. 

Using  his  prodigious  strength  he  sought  to  lift  and 
displace  the  larger  log,  but  in  vain.  In  a  similar  at- 
tempt on  the  other  he  was  more  successful ;  and  throw- 
ing its  end  over  into  the  moat,  he  caused  the  occupants 
of  both  to  lose  their  footing,  following  the  log  into  the 
turbulent  waters,  with  the  exception  of  the  Prince. 
That  giant,  in  advance  of  the  others,  with  a  tremen- 
dous bound,  gained  the  battlements.  Before  the  brave 
Peter  had  realized  what  had  happened  his  helmet  and 
head  were  both  cleft  by  a  fearful  blow  from  his  arch 
enemy.  Feeling  that  it  must  be  fatal,  he  sprang  upon 
his  .adversary.  Encircling  his  huge  bulk  in  a  death 
struggle,  he,  by  a  dexterous  move,  threw  him  close 
to  the  edge  of  the  wall,  falling  over  backward  with  him 
into  the  deep  water. 


HOW  KURT  SERVED  PRINCE  STEFFEL.      203 

The  one  idea  which  nerved  the  dying  Peter  was  to 
drag  under  and  drown  his  burly  foe,  but  his  strength 
was  too  far  spent ;  so  after  one  or  two  futile  attempts, 
he  loosened  his  hold  and  the  waters  closed  over  his 
lifeless  body.  Prince  Steffel's  vassals  rushed  to  their 
leader's  rescue,  and  despite  his  heavy  armor,  succeed- 
ed in  drawing  him,  half  drowned,  from  the  moat. 

Having  been  repulsed  on  all  sides,  the  enemy  aban- 
doned all  further  attempts  to  capture  the  fortress  by 
storm.  Conrad  and  Hugo,  who  had  reached  the  outer 
battlements  round  the  courtyard  in  time  to  witness  the 
Prince's  rescue,  now  threw  over  the  remaining  log. 
The  castle  was  once  more,  for  the  time  being,  secure 
in  its  defense. 

That  evening  our  brave  friends  sat  before  a  roaring 
fire  in  the  banquet  room,  listening  to  Volga's  account 
of  the  struggle  between  the  wrestler  and  Prince  Stef- 
fel,  which  she  witnessed  from  an  inner  window,  while 
with  the  women  of  the  castle,  preparing  the  scanty 
meal  which  was  then  placed  before  the  hungry  garri- 
son. The  single  glass  of  wine  which  was  allowed  to 
each  one  that  night  was  drunk  in  silence  in  memory 
of  the  valiant  Peter. 

Kurt's  condition  prevented  his  active  partici- 
pation in  the  events  of  the  day,  and  it  was 
fully  a  week  before  he  was  pronounced  strong 
enough  to  venture  upon  a  return  to  Falkenstein.  Dur- 


204          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

ing  his  late  perilous  expedition,  he  had  become  so 
well  acquainted  with  the  woods  and  byways,  that  he 
felt  confident  of  reaching  the  Princess  in  safety. 

On  a  dark  night,  under  a  threatening  sky,  he  left 
the  castle,  bearing  with  him  some  important  instruc- 
tions and  many  messages  of  love  from  the  Duke  and 
Conrad. 

Clad  once  more  as  a  Pomeranian  rider,  Kurt  noise- 
lessly crossed  the  moat  in  a  boat,  landing  just  between 
two  sentinels.  There  he  lay  safe  for  a  few  moments 
under  cover  of  the  darkness.  Not  daring  to  rise,  he 
rolled  himself  slowly  over  and  over  until  his  progress 
was  arrested  by  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  near  which,  by  the 
dying  embers  of  a  campfire,  a  tent  was  faintly  visible. 
Here  the  real  danger  of  discovery  began.  He  had, 
however,  but  a  few  weeks  before,  passed  safely 
through  the  camp,  and  he  picked  his  way  that  night 
more  cautiously  than  ever.  After  passing  many  tents 
and  smoldering  camp-fires,  he  found  himself  at  a 
wooden  enclosure  in  which  the  horses  were  quartered. 
Instantly  his  thoughts  returned  to  his  lost  steed.  He 
wondered  if  it  were  possible  that  the  little  Hungarian 
might  be  there.  Without  any  especial  reason  for 
thinking  it,  the  idea  took  possession  of  him,  and  he  re- 
solved to  act  upon  it. 

Leaning  upon  the  wooden  fence  to  await  the  day- 
light, well  aware  that  it  would  bring  with  it  new  dan- 


HOW  KURT  SERVED  PRINCE  STEFFEL.      205 

ger,  he  was  willing  to  take  the  risk,  believing  that  his 
uniform  would  again  shield  him  from  identification. 

A  faint  gleam  of  day  soon  enabled  him  to  make  out 
the  outline  of  the  animals.  As  it  fully  broke,  he  dis- 
covered, to  his  great  joy,  that,  sure  enough,  his  faith- 
ful friend,  given  up  by  him  for  lost,  was  there  amongst 
them.  With  the  hope  of  recapturing  him  Kurt  at  once 
resolved  to  remain  where  he  was  and  brave  the  conse- 
quences. 

While  thinking  over  a  plan  to  carry  out  his  designs, 
the  morning  bugle  sounded.  Immediately  the  whole 
camp  was  astir.  A  moment  later,  two  stalwart  Pom- 
eranians, one  of  them  limping,  emerged  from  a  shed 
near  by  and  were  about  entering  the  enclosure,  when 
they  perceived  him.  The  lame  one  called  out  gruffly : 
"What  dost  thou  want  here,  thou  fellow?" 

"I  came  to  help  with  the  horses,"  replied  the  boy, 
boldly. 

"Who  told  thee  to  come?"  was  the  rejoinder. 

"Prince  Steffel,"  answered  Kurt. 

"It  is  a  lie !"  retorted  the  man.  "Prince  Steffel  left 
the  camp  four  days  ago." 

"I  know  it,"  said  the  young  dissembler,  still  keeping 
a  bold  front.  "I  did  not  say  he  had  told  me  today. 
Our  Captain  has  kept  me  in  his  tent  doing  his  dirty 
work  until  this  morning." 

"We'll  see  about  that,"  replied  the  trooper;  "but 


206          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

now  go  to  work  and  help  my  mate  while  I  nurse  my 
sore  leg.  Mind  now,  and  be  quick  about  it." 

Kurt  needed  no  further  admonition,  but  went  to 
work  with  a  will,  keeping,  however,  as  far  away  from 
his  own  horse  as  possible. 

Hardly  had  he  and  the  unsuspecting  trooper  en- 
tered the  enclosure  than  the  little  Hungarian,  catch- 
ing sight  of  his  young  master,  neighed  cheerily,  at  the 
same  time  sending  his  heels  in  air  in  joyful  play.  This 
startled  the  boy,  but  he  kept  a  sober  face,  attending  as- 
siduously to  the  horses  under  his  care.  When  they 
reached  the  river,  every  one  of  the  thirsty  animals 
proceeded  to  drink  except  the  Hungarian,  which, 
standing  foot  deep  in  the  water,  turned  his  head  wist- 
fully to  ward,  his  watchful  master. 

This  was  too  much  for  the  excited  boy.  No  longer 
able  to  contain  himself,  and  thinking  that  perhaps  this 
was  the  most  favorable  opportunity  he  might  have  for 
escape,  he  ran  to  his  horse,  vaulted  on  its  bare  back, 
and  with  only  a  halter  to  guide,  galloped  off  with  all 
speed. 

The  astonished  Pomeranian  followed  the  bold  rider 
with  his  eyes,  failing  in  his  stupidity  to  comprehend 
the  situation  until  it  was  too  late,  as  the  fugitive  had 
by  this  time  disappeared  among  the  trees.  In  half 
an  hour  Kurt  had  crossed  the  upper  ford.  Fearing  that 
he  might  meet  some  of  the  enemy,  even  at  that  early 


HOW  KURT  SERVED  PRINCE  STEFFEL.      207 

hour,  he  again  sought  the  shelter  of  the  woods. 
Hardly  had  he  done  so  when  the  first  flakes  of  the 
coming  snowstorm  fell  at  his  feet. 

When  late  at  night  he  reached  the  vicinity  of  the 
Benedictine  Monastery,  the  ground  was  covered  with 
a  heavy  white  blanket,  against  which  every  dark  object 
stood  out  in  bold  relief. 

Tired  and  hungry,  having  eaten  but  little  during 
the  day,  he  applied  at  the  monastery  gate  for  food  and 
shelter. 

The  layman  who  answered  Kurt's  bold  summons, 
on  noticing  his  uniform,  asked  if  he  wished  to  see 
Prince  Steffel. 

"Is  he  quartered  here  ?"  asked  the  boy,  in  alarm. 

"Most  certainly  he  is,"  was  the  reply.  "Thou 
shouldst  know  it." 

"I  suppose  I  should,"  stammered  Kurt,  "but  I  am 
not  a  Pomeranian  soldier." 

Then  informing  the  layman  as  to  his  name  and  busi- 
ness, he  asked  that  he  might  speak  to  the  Abbot  in 
private.  In  a  few  moments  he  was  ushered  into  the 
astonished  prelate's  presence,  while  his  horse  was  being 
cared  for  in  company  with  the  mules  and  donkeys  be- 
longing to  the  establishment. 

One  can  imagine  with  what  interest  the  sympathiz- 
ing old  Abbot  listened  to  Kurt's  rapid  but  graphic  re- 
cital of  events.  He  sat  before  a  rousing  fire  in  the  pri- 


208         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

vate  audience  room  of  the  Monastery,  enjoying  a  plen- 
tiful supper,  while  his  Reverence  questioned  him  re- 
garding the  exciting  scenes,  of  which,  so  far,  only  the 
vaguest  rumors  had  reached  him. 

"Since  the  forcible  entry  of  the  Godless  Prince  and 
his  impudent  knights  within  these  sacred  walls,"  quoth 
he,  "I  have  been  almost  a  prisoner  myself.  The  bad 
man  keeps  so  watchful  an  eye  on  me,  I  have  not  dared 
to  make  the  attempt  to  communicate  either  with  the 
Princess  Ursula  at  Falkenstein,  or  her  father  and 
Knight  Conrad  at  Waldhorst.  It  was  lucky  for  thee, 
my  boy,  that,  probably  owing  to  the  snowstorm,  there 
happened  to  be  no  sentinel  posted  at  the  gate  when 
thou  didst  ask  for  admission.  Thy  presence  here  must 
be  kept  a  profound  secret.  Thou  must  sleep  on 
yonder  couch.  As  this  room  adjoins  my  own,  I  shall 
awake  thee  ere  daylight,  trusting  that  before  any  of 
Prince  Steffel's  men  are  stirring,  thou  shalt  have  got- 
ten beyond  their  reach.  Tell  the  Princess  how  my 
heart  aches  for  her  and  those  dear  to  her,  and  that  we 
pray  daily  at  mass  for  the  deliverance  of  the  noble 
Duke  and  Knight  Conrad,  as  well  as  of  Volga  and  the 
young  Count  of  Waldhorst,  the  noble  son  of  that 
wicked  though  repentant  sire,  whom  I  have  found  it 
hard  to  forgive." 

On  the  day  following,  just  as  the  sun,  after  its  work 
of  melting  the  snow,  sank  behind  the  dripping  wooded 


HOW  KURT  SERVED  PRINCE  STEFFEL.      209 

hills,  our  young  servitor,  besplashcd  with  mud,  and 
mounted  on  his  forlorn,  woe-begone  looking  steed, 
presented  himself  at  the  castle  of  Falkenstein. 

Ursula  and  the  Duchess  were  seated  in  a  cozy  room 
in  the  palace,  talking  as  usual  of  the  absent  ones,  and 
listening  to  cheering  words,  from  the  now  convalescent 
minstrel. 

When  Kurt's  arrival  was  announced,  Ursula  could 
hardly  believe  her  ears.  Wild  with  joy,  she  ordered 
him  into  her  presence.  The  beaming  boy  entered  the 
room,  fell  on  his  knees  and  kissed  again  and  again  the 
hand  of  his  beloved  mistress.  His  voice  trembling  with 
emotion,  he  replied  to  the  anxious  inquiries  after  her 
father  and  lover,  and  sitting  at  her  feet,  delivered  their 
messages  in  full,  putting  her  in  possession  of  all  that 
had  happened  to  them  as  well  as  to  himself. 

Wolfram  was  exceedingly  proud  of  his  protege,  com- 
plimenting him  in  such  unqualified  terms  on  the  cour- 
age and  manliness  which  he  had  evinced  during  all  the 
varied  scenes  of  his  trying  imprisonment  and  escape, 
and,  in  fact,  was  so  generally  pleased  at  his  conduct, 
that  the  boy  was  more  than  compensated  for  the  perils 
which  he  had  so  recently  undergone. 

"And  now,"  said  the  minstrel,  gallantly,  "seeing  that 
thou  hast  really  entered  the  service  of  the  Princess,  I 
feel  reconciled  to  my  loss;  and  I  trust  that  thy  heart 
will  remain  as  true  and  faithful  as  ever." 

14 


210         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

"We  are,  indeed,  greatly  beholden  to  thee,  dear 
boy,"  added  Ursula,  "but  do  not  forget  that  it  was  the 
hand  of  an  all-ruling  God  that  guided  thee  through 
every  peril.  Let  us  all  give  thanks  to  him  this  night, 
before  we  seek  repose." 

"Amen,"  softly  responded  the  minstrel. 

Kurt's  cup  of  happiness  was  so  full  that  it  was  im- 
possible for  him  to  close  his  eyes  for  many  hours.  As 
he  lay,  his  heart  went  up  in  thankfulness  for  his  deliver- 
ance ;  but  the  praises  which  he  had  received  from  the 
lovely  Princess  were  dearer  to  him  than  life. 

With  the  prayer  that  she  and  Conrad  might  be  soon 
reunited,  and  thinking  alternately  of  her  and  of  his 
ideal  knight,  he  at  last  fell  asleep. 


THE  SIEGE  AND  SURRENDER.  211 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  SIEGE  AND  SURRENDER. 

"  Tis  not  now  who's  stout  and  bold? 
But,  who  bears  hunger  best,  and  cold? 
And  he's  approved  the  most  deserving 
Who  longest  can  hold  out  at  starving." 

— Butler. 

"Uncertainty!  Fell  demon  of  our  fears!    The  human  soul 
That  can  support  despair,  supports  not  thee!" 

— Mallet. 

A  day  after  Kurt's  departure  from  Waldhorst,  our 
friends  once  more  held  a  council  of  war  to  determine 
how  long  their  provisions  could  hold  out  at  the  rate 
they  were  using  them. 

Finding  that  there  was  barely  enough  left  to  keep 
man  and  beast  alive  during  the  winter,  they  debated 
whether  or  not  it  were  the  wiser  plan  to  eat  and 
drink  sufficiently  each  day  to  keep  all  in  fair  fighting 
trim.  They  finally  came  to  the  decision  that  this 
would  be  best,  taking  into  consideration  the  chances 
of  some  fortunate  turn  in  affairs,  such  as  Prince 


212          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

Steffel's  possible  abandonment  of  the  siege,  or  the  ar- 
rival of  the  promised  relief  sooner  than  expected. 

They  consequently  settled  down  to  a  strict  military 
routine,  drilling  the  men,  and  exercising  horses  in 
the  courtyard  at  night,  to  avoid  the  bolts  of  the 
enemy's  sharpshooters,  stationed  on  the  cemetery  hill 
overlooking  the  castle.  The  besiegers  closely  en- 
compassed the  fortress,  rendering  any  concerted  at- 
tempt at  escape  futile ;  yet  not  one  of  that  brave  little 
band  ever  dreamed  of  abandoning  his  comrades  and 
seeking  personal  safety  in  flight. 

As  the  season  advanced  the  moat  became  frozen 
over.  Though  the  ice  increased  in  thickness,  and 
was  covered  by  heavy  and  repeated  falls  of  snow,  the 
water  underneath  still  ran  in  a  swift  current,  forcing 
its  way  in  and  out  through  the  subterranean  passages. 
With  this  wintry  bridge  thus  formed  across  it,  the 
chances  for  escape  increased;  but  the  probability  of 
another  attack  became  much  more  imminent.  Not- 
withstanding this  danger,  the  heroic  little  band  deter- 
mined to  stand  at  its  post,  and  still  further  strength- 
en the  defenses  of  the  castle. 

Prince  Steffel,  however,  seemed  averse  to  renewing 
the  attack,  as  he  remained  absent  from  camp. 

Day  after  day  passed  in  suspense,  each  bringing 
with  it  some  new  privation  to  the  garrison.  Volga, 
Hugo,  the  Duke,  Conrad  and  Henry  the  Guide  kept 


THE  SIEGE  AND  SURRENDER.  213 

up  their  equestrian  exercises  by  the  light  from  the 
castle  windows,  riding  in  circle,  and  attempting  to  out- 
do each  other  in  feats  of  horsemanship. 

Volga  soon  distinguished  herself  in  this  way,  though 
frequently  admonished  by  the  Duke  for  her  reckless- 
ness. 

One  night  she  astonished  all  by  standing  on  her 
horse,  stepping  from  him  at  a  full  gallop  to  the  back 
of  another  ridden  by  Hugo,  and  subsequently  to  Con- 
rad's, behind  whom  she  sat  down  in  triumph.  The 
ability  to  perform  this  extraordinary  feat  proved  her 
salvation,  as  we  shall  see  later  on. 

Each  evening  the  besieged  would  sit  talking  over 
the  uneventful  day,  speculating  on  the  doings  of  their 
friends  at  Falkenstein.  In  this  way  two  months  of 
monotonous  life  passed,  when  one  morning,  to  the  dis- 
may of  all,  it  was  discovered  that  the  ice  in  the  moat 
had  given  way  during  the  night,  settling  down  to  its 
bottom  and  choking  up  the  outlet. 

This  sudden  stoppage  of  their  water  supply  they 
were  at  a  loss  to  account  for,  though  suspectin;g 
Prince  Steffel's  hand  in  it.  That  he  had  actually  been 
at  work,  during  his  absence,  damming  the  river  above 
the  castle  and  diverting  its  course  into  the  valley,  they 
found  out  later  on.  This  untoward  circumstance 
proved  a  dire  calamity  for  man  and  beast.  To  add  to 
this,  Prince  Steffel  appeared  before  the  walls,  demand- 


214          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

ing  surrender,  promising  at  the  same  time  to  treat  the 
inmates  as  honorable  prisoners  of  war.  Spring,  how- 
ever, was  now  so  near  with  its  promise  of  certain  re- 
lief, and  a  well-founded  distrust  in  the  promises  of  the 
Prince  as  well  induced  the  besieged  to  refuse  com- 
pliance with  his  demand ;  so  he  departed  and  concocted 
plans  for  further  mischief. 

But  alas !  by  the  end  of  March  affairs  were  becom- 
ing desperate.  They  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it 
would  be  impossible  to  hold  out  longer.  They  re- 
mained without  tidings  from  Ursula.  The  still  swollen 
rivers  were  likely  to  longer  retard  the  arrival  of  the 
forces  from  Luxemburg.  The  last  sack  of  flour  had 
been  baked.  The  well  in  the  courtyard  had  gone  dry. 
The  supply  of  melted  snow  and  rain  which  they  had 
caught  had  become  undrinkable.  It  was  thus  that 
famine  stared  them  in  their  faces,  on  which  privation 
had  already  made  its  mark.  This  made  the  surrender 
inevitable.  They  resolved  that  if  in  another  day  no 
help  appeared,  they  should  make  the  best  possible 
terms  with  Prince  Steffel. 

The  next  morning  Hugo  climbed  wearily  up  the 
highest  tower  and  strained  his  eyes  in  the  vain  hope  of 
discovering  in  the  far  distant  valley  some  signs  of  com- 
ing relief.  Returning  to  his  friends,  his  look  of  dis- 
appointment rendered  words  superfluous. 

Accordingly,  he  seized  a  white  flag  of  truce,  and 


THE  SIEGE  AND  SURRENDER.  215 

holding  a  short  conference  with  the  Duke  and  Conrad, 
again  mounted  the  drawbridge,  which  was  then  at  once 
lowered  to  its  level.  Requesting  an  interview  with  the 
Pomeranian  Prince,  he  was  reported  to  be  absent,  but 
expected  to  return  on  the  day  following. 

As  their  condition  was  now  so  desperate,  Hugo 
decided,  if  possible,  to  make  terms  with  those  next 
in  command,  as  follows:  First,  that  he  should  sur- 
render the  fortress.  Second,  that  Volga,  the  Duke, 
Conrad  and  himself  should  be  allowed  to  keep  their 
arms  and  horses,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  Prince; 
and  third,  that  the  rest  of  the  garrison  should  be 
treated  as  honorable  prisoners ;  finally,  that  all  of  them 
should  immediately  be  fed  within  the  castle  and  be 
allowed  to  remain  under  its  roof  overnight,  or  until 
such  time  as  Prince  Steffel  should  return. 

The  knight  in  command  at  first  seemed  disinclined 
to  grant  these  conditions;  but  he  finally  agreed  to 
them  with  the  exception  of  their  remaining  overnight, 
for  reasons  best  known  to  himself. 

Hugo  communicated  this  ultimatum  to  his  friends. 
Returning  to  the  bridge,  he  accepted  the  terms.  That 
afternoon,  after  hunger  had  been  satisfied  by  a  sup- 
ply of  food  and  drink,  the  men,  women  and  chil- 
dren, mounted  and  dismounted,  with  Henry,  the  guide, 
at  their  head,  crossed  the  drawbridge,  and  were  quar- 
tered in  a  long  shed,  which  until  lately  had  served  as 


216         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

a  barracks  for  Prince  Steffel's  squires.  Duke  Henry, 
Conrad  and  Hugo,  fully  armed,  accompanied  by  Vol- 
ga, who  carried  her  crossbow  defiantly,  rode  over  the 
bridge.  A  few  minutes  later,  they  were  consigned  to 
the  witch's  cabin.  Their  horses,  meanwhile,  remained 
saddled,  tied  to  a  tree  across  the  road. 

They  found  the  interior  of  the  hut  greatly  disturbed, 
for  in  spite  of  the  superstition  connected  with  it,  it 
had  been  used  to  stable  the  Prince's  horses.  Pieces  of 
the  broken  furniture  had  been  thrown,  along  with 
straw,  on  the  old  rubbish  pile  in  the  corner. 

When  the  door  of  the  shed  had  closed  upon  them, 
being  much  refreshed  by  their  recent  meal,  they  stood 
close  together  in  the  darkness  to  commune  with  each 
other  over  the  situation. 

They  had  every  reason  to  fear  that  on  the  morrow 
the  terms  of  surrender  would  be  greatly  changed  for 
the  worse,  if  not  entirely  cancelled  by  the  brutal 
Prince ;  so  they  naturally  concentrated  their  thoughts 
on  devising  some  possible  means  of  escape.  Conrad 
was  the  first  to  suggest  the  subterranean  passage  of 
the  cave,  by  which  he  and  the  Duke  successfully  evad- 
ed pursuit  nearly  a  year  before.  He  felt  almost  sure 
that  this  exit  from  the  hut  remained  open  and  undis- 
covered by  the  enemy.  But  what  chance  had  they  of 


THE  SIEGE  AND  SURRENDER.  217 

escape  without  horses,  even  though  they  should  suc- 
ceed in  reaching  and  passing  through  the  now  dry 
cave. 

While  they  were  discussing  this  point,  a  bright  light 
suddenly  flashed  into  the  cabin,  through  its  only  open- 
ing, the  hole  in  the  roof.  At  the  same  time  a  peculiar 
crackling  noise  was  heard.  Just  at  that  moment  a 
soldier  entered  the  cabin  with  food  and  drink  for  their 
supper,  and  as  the  unwonted  glare  still  puzzled  them, 
Conrad  asked  of  the  man  an  explanation.  "The  castle 
is  ablaze,"  replied  the  soldier.  "It  has  been  fired  by 
orders  from  our  august  Prince ;"  saying  which,  he 
slammed  the  door,  bolting  it  behind  him.  Hugo,  be- 
side himself  with  rage,  shook  his  clenched  fist  at  the 
imaginary  figure  of  the  detested  enemy  who  had  or- 
dered the  destruction  of  his  fine  ancestral  inheritance. 
As  he  now  understood  the  motive  of  the  Pomeranians 
in  insisting  on  its  evacuation,  the  young  Count,  with 
vengeance  at  heart,  exerted  himself  to  work  out  the 
problems  of  their  escape.  While  eating  his  supper,  the 
increasing  glare  of  the  burning  castle  seemed  to  set  his 
brain  on  fire. 

"I've  hit  upon  a  plan,"  he  suddenly  exclaimed,  ris- 
ing. "I  will  crawl  out  through  that  hole  upon  the  roof, 
climb  over  it  in  the  shade  of  the  overhanging  rock, 
get  to  the  ground  among  the  bushes,  cross  to  where 
the  horses  are  tied,  mount  my  own,  and  taking  the 


218         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

others  with  me  around  the  turn,  enter  the  thicket  be- 
fore any  alarm  can  be  given.  Once  among  the  trees, 
there  will  be  no  danger  of  pursuit,  particularly  as  I  will 
make  my  way  to  a  hidden  path  which  leads  to  the 
mouth  of  the  cave.  There  I  will  wait  for  you  while 
you  make  your  way  through  its  clay  bed.  Thou, 
Volga,  knowest  the  path  ?" 

"Yes,  dear  Hugo,"  replied  the  girl,  "I  know  it  well ; 
but  what  if  we  fail  to  reach  thee  through  the  cave  ?" 

"That  must  not  be,"  answered  Hugo.  "What  sayest 
thou,  Conrad,  and  thou,  my  lord  Duke  ?" 

"I  have  more  confidence  in  our  getting  through 
that  dark  passage  than  in  thy  meeting  us  with  the 
horses,"  replied  the  Duke. 

"So  have  I,"  said  Conrad,  "and  I  wish  we  could  de- 
vise a  plan  which  would  not  involve  so  great  a  risk  to 
thee,  Hugo." 

"Listen !"  interposed  the  brave  youth,  with  decision. 
"Nothing  ventured,  nothing  gained.  Our  position 
here  is  a  desperate  one,  and  we  can  expect  no  mercy 
from  that  merciless  boor.  If  we  fail  in  our  attempt  to 
escape,  we  shall  be  no  worse  off.  In  either  case,  I 
presume  we  shall  be  killed." 

"That  is  true,"  said  Volga,  "and  I  have  full  faith  in 
the  success  of  thy  undertaking,  Hugo ;  meanwhile  we 
shall  do  our  best  to  make  our  way  through  the  cave's 
dry,  bed." 


THE  SIEGE  AND  SURRENDER.  219 

Without  further  parley  Conrad  went  to  the  corner. 
In  order  not  to  disturb  the  appearance  of  the  refuse 
heap,  he  pushed  it  carefully  aside,  disclosing  the  well- 
known  narrow  opening.  Beyond  it,  in  the  dark  pas- 
sage, instead  of  the  rushing  water  which  greeted  his 
ears  the  year  before,  silence  reigned  supreme.  In  a 
corner  of  the  rocky  niche  stood  three  well-corked  stone 
jars,  which  on  examination,  Duke  Henry  and  Con- 
rad pronounced  to  contain  some  of  the  mysterious 
liquid  whose  invigorating  properties  they  both  had 
tested  during  their  first  visit  to  the  hut.  Could  it 
be  that  the  old  witch  had  hidden  these  bottles  for 
them,  knowing  that  they  would  again  try  to  escape  by 
this  path  ?  It  almost  seemed  so. 

"And  who  knows,"  said  the  Duke,  "but  that  the  poor 
demented  woman,  after  her  imaginary  mission  on 
earth  had  been  fulfilled,  may  have  thrown  herself  into 
the  dark  current  beyond  to  end  her  miserable  exist- 
ence?" 

At  Conrad's  suggestion  they  all  took  a  long  draught 
from  one  of  the  jars,  which,  stirring  their  blood,  seemed 
to  infuse  new  strength  into  their  bodies.  The  Duke  no 
longer  attempted  to  dissuade  Hugo  from  his  hazardous 
undertaking. 

To  facilitate  his  movements,  the  young  Count  re- 
moved his  armor,  an  example  followed  soon  after  by 
his  male  companions.  To  prevent  recognition  by  the 


220          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

enemy  he  kept  only  his  short  hunting  sword  which  he 
concealed  beneath  his  doublet.  The  Duke,  Volga  and 
Conrad  bade  him  godspeed,  the  latter,  with  his  strong 
arms,  lifting  him  up  to  climb  upon  the  roof  through  the 
hole  above.  Having  reached  it,  Hugo  crept  down  in 
the  shade  close  by  the  rocks  and  dropped  noiselessly  to 
the  ground.  The  creaking  of  the  old  structure  being 
lost  in  the  crackling  of  the  conflagration  escaped  the 
ears  of  the  two  sentinels  mechanically  pacing  up  and 
down  before  the  hut,  whose  present  occupants,  as  far  as 
the  narrow  brains  of  the  soldiers  were  able  to  conceive, 
had  but  one  means  of  egress. 

Hugo  saw  them  from  his  hiding  place  pacing  quite 
near  him  and  was  puzzled  for  a  moment  what  to  do 
next.  Not  far  off  he  descried  men  sleeping  on  their 
arms  in  open  tents  and  the  horses  he  longed  to  secure 
still  tied  some  distance  back,  across  the  road,  to  a  tree 
which  was  shaded  from  the  fire's  glare. 

The  brave  youth  crept  along  the  rock  until  he  came 
nearly  opposite  the  horses.  There  he  lay  down,  feign- 
ing to  be  sound  asleep.  For  a  short  while,  one  of  the 
sentinels  passed  and  repassed  without  noticing  him. 
Presently,  as  he  approached,  Hugo  snored  aloud,  in 
order  to  attract  his  attention.  The  ruse  succeeded  as 
he  knew  by  a  kick  in  the  ribs,  and  a  gruff  voice  de- 
manding what  he  was  doing  there.  He  pretended  to 
be  very  drunk,  and  waited  for  a  second  kick  before  he 


The  Duke,  Vol.^a.  and  Conrad  bade  him  godspeed. 


THE  SIEGE  AND  SURRENDER.  221 

replied  with  a  thickened  utterance  and  assumed  stu- 
pidity, that  he  must  have  rolled  there  in  his  sleep. 

"Get  back  to  thy  tent,  thou  pig !"  growled  the  sen- 
tinel, kicking  him  over  and  over  again,  across  the  road 
to  the  trees.  There  he  left  the  supposed  drunkard, 
paying  no  more  attention  to  him.  Hugo,  however, 
kept  on  rolling  toward  the  horses,  feeling  assured  that 
by  not  having  resented  his  hard  usage,  he  had  saved 
his  own  life,  and  possibly,  the  lives  of  his  friends  as 
well. 

Once  out  of  sight  of  the  sentinels,  he  worked  his 
way  quickly,  though  carefully,  on  all  fours,  toward 
the  coveted  tree;  but  before  reaching  it,  he  nearly 
stumbled  over  a  recumbent  body,  seemingly  that  of  a 
Pomeranian  lanzknecht.  He  drew  his  hunting  sword ; 
but  as  the  prostrate  form  remained  immovable,  he 
scanned  the  face  closely  and  to  his  amazement  recog- 
nized Kurt,  apparently  unconscious,  with  his  hands 
and  feet  tied.  Hugo  called  him  by  name  close  to  his 
ear,  which  caused  him  to  open  his  eyes  with  wonder 
and  see  the  familiar  features  of  the  young  Count,  who 
motioned  him  to  keep  quiet.  Hugo  quickly  cut  the 
lad's  bonds,  asking  in  a  whisper  what  had  brought  him 
again  to  such  a  pass. 

"I  came  from  Falkenstein,"  softly  answered  the  boy, 
"with  a  message  to  you  from  the  Princess  that  the 
Luxemburg  knights  were  crossing  the  Rhine  and 


222          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

would  probably  reach  the  ferry  at  the  Benedictine 
Monastery  within  two  days.  When  I  arrived  here 
an  hour  ago,"  continued  the  boy,  "I  saw  the  castle  on 
fire,  and  my  heart  sank  within  me.  I  suppose  I  be- 
came careless  about  being  seen,  for  I  was  suspected, 
questioned  and  taken  before  the  commander  of  this 
camp,  who  ordered  me  to  be  bound  hand  and  foot 
and  thrown  here  until  the  coming  of  Prince  Steffel. 
He,  I  know,  will  recognize  me.  I  had  given  up  all 
hope  and  lay  here  resigned  to  my  fate." 

Hugo,  in  a  few  low,  hasty  words,  told  the  boy  what 
had  transpired,  then  ordering  him  to  take  Volga's 
horse  from  among  those  fastened  nearby  and  to  follow 
him  closely,  he  was  about  to  get  among  them  when 
Kurt  whispered:  "Lady  Volga's  horse  is  not  there. 
I  did  not  see  him  anywhere.  My  own  good  steed, 
however,  under  yonder  tree,  is  at  her  service,  should  I 
succeed  in  reaching  him." 

"We  will  see,"  Hugo  replied.  "I  may  decide  to  take 
Volga  on  behind  me  and  despatch  thee  to  Falkenstein. 
Try  to  get  thy  horse :  Only  if  thou  failest  to  reach  him, 
will  I  start  without  thee." 

The  boy  was  off,  creeping  behind  tents  on  his 
hands  and  knees.  In  a  short  time  Hugo  saw  him  peep 
over  the  back  of  his  steed,  watching  his  own  move- 
ments. He  lost  no  time  in  getting  between  the  horses 
which  were  to  carry  him  and  his  friends.  With  the 


THE  SIEGE  AND  SURRENDER.  223 

bridles  of  two  of  them  in  his  hand,  he  mounted  his 
own,  and  proceeded  to  pick  his  way  quickly  between 
the  trees.  Before  he  had  reached  the  illuminated  road, 
however,  the  two  sentinels  perceived  him.  Running 
toward  him  they  shouted  lustily.  As  the  first  one 
neared  the  heels  of  the  rear  horse,  he  received  a  kick 
which  rolled  him  over,  groaning.  The  other  attempted 
to  seize  Hugo's  horse  at  the  bridle  bit,  but  fell  back 
with  a  loud  cry,  with  his  hand  badly  cut  by  a  savage 
blow  from  its  rider's  sword. 

In  a  moment  they  were  off  at  full  gallop;  but  by 
this  time  the  whole  camp  was  in  an  uproar,  armed 
soldiers  running  out  of  their  tents,  and  a  detachment 
of  fifty  horsemen  mounting  in  haste  for  the  pursuit. 
Just  then  another  rider,  a  Pomeranian  lanzknecht,  was 
seen  making  his  way  through  the  trees.  The  last  to 
gain  the  road,  he  seemed  to  pursue  the  fugitives.  It 
was  well  for  Kurt  that  he  urged  his  Hungarian  to  his 
utmost ;  for  hardly  had  he  rounded  the  turn,  when  he 
caught  sight  of  the  gallant  Hugo  before  him,  on  the 
point  of  disappearing  with  his  led  horses  into  a  thicket, 
who  were  now  closely  followed  by  the  boy.  A  moment 
later,  the  horsemen  rounded  the  corner,  expecting  to 
see  in  the  well  lighted  road  the  fugitives,  whoever  they 
might  be.  One  can  imagine  their  astonishment  and 
chagrin  when  no  traces  of  them  were  visible. 

The  knight  in  command  halted  his  men,  and  gave 


224         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

vent  to  his  disappointment  in  curses.  In  his  search  for 
fresh  impressions  of  horses'  hoofs,  he  was  unsuccess- 
ful, as  they  had  been  entirely  obliterated  by  those  of 
his  own  riders.  After  looking  in  vain  among  the  in- 
tricate bushes  and  trees  for  some  sign,  he  returned 
crestfallen  to  camp,  still  cursing  his  luck,  which  he 
knew  would  bring  down  upon  his  head  the  wrath  of 
Prince  Steffel.  The  sentinel  with  the  lacerated  hand 
approached  him  and  said  that  the  fugitive  with  the  led 
horses  looked  like  one  of  the  prisoners  confined  in  the 
witch's  hut,  and  the  other,  in  the  Pomeranian  garb, 
resembled  the  spy  captured  in  camp  a  few  hours  be- 
fore. 

"What  were  you  damned  sentinels  about  then?" 
roared  the  captain. 

"We  never  left  our  posts,"  answered  the  one  who 
was  still  half  doubled  up  by  the  kick  he  had  received ; 
"that  witch's  den,  however,  is  no  safe  place  to  confine 
anyone." 

"Hold  thy  tongue,  thou  fool,"  cried  the  Knight  in 
command  of  the  camp,  just  then  approaching.  "Open 
the  door  and  we  shall  see  who  is  within." 

The  order  was  quickly  obeyed.  To  their  dismay, 
they  found  the  cabin  empty.  The  soldiers  crossed 
themselves,  looking  at  each  other  in  blank  wonder. 
On  the  floor  of  the  dirty  hovel  lay  three  suits  of  armor, 
Hugo's  battle-axe  and  Volga's  cloak. 

The  commander  was  the  first  to  recover  from  his 


THE  SIEGE  AND  SURRENDER.  225 

astonishment.  Looking  around,  he  saw  the  signs  of 
someone  having  escaped  through  the  hole  in  the  roof ; 
and  never  dreaming  of  an  opening  behind  the  rubbish, 
took  it  for  granted  that  all  the  fugitives  had  escaped 
through  the  same  aperture.  In  a  great  rage,  he  ac- 
cused the  sentinels  of  treachery  and  had  them  put  in 
irons.  An  immediate  search  throughout  the  camp 
was  then  ordered,  and  a  body  of  riders  sent  to  scour  the 
surrounding  country. 

The  return  of  the  Prince  was  awaited  in  fear  and 
trembling.  When  he  arrived  the  next  day,  his  vassals 
soon  learned  that  their  fears  were  well  founded.  He 
was  in  great  glee  over  the  capitulation  and  destruction 
of  the  castle,  and  eager  to  take  final  vengeance  on  the 
Duke  and  Conrad. 

When  he  learned  that  they  had  escaped  and  two 
others  with  them,  his  rage  knew  no  bounds.  He  or- 
dered the  two  sentinels  to  be  summarily  beheaded. 
The  captain  he  had  flogged  within  an  inch  of  his  life 
and  dismissed  from  service.  Then  all  the  prisoners 
were  brought  before  the  vindictive  conquerer.  With 
the  exception  of  Henry  the  guide,  of  whom  we  shall 
hear  later  on,  he  then  condemned  them  to  death,  re- 
gardless of  sex  or  age. 

After  these  cruel  orders  were  executed,  he  broke 
camp,  concentrating  his  forces  on  the  right  side  of  the 
river,  the  better  to  intercept  the  army  from  Luxem- 
burg, and  prevent  its  junction  with  the  Princess  Ur- 
sula. 

16 


226         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  FLIGHT. 

"For   those   that    fly    may    fight    again, 
Which  he  can  never  do  that's  slain; 
Hence  timely  cunning's  no  mean  part 
Of  conduct  in  the  martial  art." 

— Hudibras. 

To  go  back  to  our  friends.  With  every  sense  on 
the  alert,  they  had  heard  the  uproar  in  the  camp. 
Feeling  almost  certain  that  Hugo  had  succeeded  in 
securing  the  horses,  they,  without  further  delay,  cast 
off  their  armor,  secured  their  battle-axes  to  their  sides 
and  entered  the  subterranean  passage,  replacing  the 
refuse  partition  most  carefully  behind  them. 

Conrad  took  the  advance,  guiding  Volga  through 
the  darkness  and  deathlike  stillness,  broken  only  by 
the  faint  echo  of  their  footsteps.  The  Duke  followed, 
carrying  the  stone  jars  tied  together  by  their  necks. 

On  arriving  at  the  river  bed,  they  made  out,  simply 
by  touch,  one  of  the  witch's  boats  hanging  by  its 
fastening  in  the  cave;  but  it  served  to  no  purpose 
save  to  steady  them  as  they  gained  a  foothold  in  the 
soft  mud  which  they  now  encountered. 


THE  FLIGHT.  227 

As  they  stood  ankle-deep  in  the  mire,  holding  on  to 
each  other  for  support,  they  descried  in  the  long  dis- 
tance before  them  the  same  opening,  through  which  a 
frail  boat,  carried  by  a  roaring  torrent,  had  so  rapidly 
taken  two  of  their  number  the  year  before.  Without 
stopping  to  weigh  the  chances  of  reaching  it  in  the 
present  condition  of  the  cave,  they  started  on 
their  difficult  journey.  It  proved  even  a  hard- 
er task  than  they  had  anticipated;  their  path 
being  filled  with  large  and  small  pieces  of  rock  im- 
bedded in  it,  rendering  each  step  not  only  uncertain  but 
dangerous.  Before  they  had  proceeded  far,  Volga 
slipped  and  wrenched  her  ankle  so  badly  that  she  was 
unable  to  walk.  Conrad  took  her  on  his  back,  saying 
with  a  laugh,  "I  must  needs  be  thy  donkey  until  we 
reach  the  horses."  The  brave  girl  replied  in  the  same 
joking  tones :  "I  like  my  donkey  greatly ;  I  prefer  him 
to  my  horse ;  but  I  fear  the  donkey  will  tire  sooner  of 
his  load." 

"Perhaps  so,"  answered  our  hero,  "but  not,  I  trow, 
as  soon  as  thou  thinkest.  Look  out  there!  Steady, 
Duke !  Here  we  go !"  A  slippery  rock  which  lay  in 
their  path,  over  which  they  stumbled,  brought  them  all 
to  grief.  They  lay  sprawling  in  the  mud. 

"What  a  lovely  picture  we  would  present,"  said 
Volga,  whom  Conrad  was  helping  to  rise,  "did  the 
light  from  that  opening  penetrate  this  far." 


228          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

"Yes,"  replied  he,  "and  how  will  we  look,  mounted 
on  our  steeds,  when  daylight  appears  ?" 

"It  seems  to  me,"  here  interposed  the  Duke,  "that 
the  water  from  the  river  has  backed  up  into  the  cave 
and  that  before  we  reach  the  opening,  we  may  have 
to  swim." 

"That  will  at  least  clean  us,  even  at  the  risk  of 
drowning,"  said  Conrad,  laughingly. 

As  they  hurried  their  steps,  still  stumbling  and 
sliding,  the  light  on  the  water's  surface  became  plainly 
visible.  They  met  with  no  further  accidents,  however, 
and  gradually  the  ground  became  harder,  and  the 
walking  less  laborious. 

As  they  reached  the  water  they  halted.  Conrad, 
placing  Volga  on  her  feet,  wiped  the  perspiration  from 
his  brow. 

"The  donkey  is  tired,"  said  he ;  "it  wants  rest  and  a 
drink!" 

"I  think  a  drink  from  these  jars  will  revive  all  of 
us,"  said  the  Duke;  "we  must  have  started  over  an 
hour  ago." 

"My  foot  is  better,"  exclaimed  Volga,  pressing  her 
weight  upon  it,  "I  think  I  can  now  walk  with  thy  h'elp, 
Conrad,  the  clinging  mud  must  have  cured  it." 

"Good  news  for  me,  thy  discharged  donkey,"  was 
the  bantering  answer.  Thus  joking  they  managed  to 
enliven  their  perilous  journey. 


THE  FLIGHT.  229 

They  drank  in  renewed  courage  from  the  old  witch's 
jars.  The  mouth  of  the  cave  had  grown  in 
size.  Pressing  onward  again,  they  gradually  found 
themselves  knee  deep  in  water,  which  made  walking 
difficult,  particularly  for  Volga.  A  few  steps'further  on, 
swimming  was  decided  upon,  which,  with  their  heavy 
weapons,  proved  no  easy  task.  Volga  placed  her  hand 
on  Conrad's  shoulder,  floating  without  effort,  while  he 
struck  out  vigorously.  The  Duke,  swimming  man- 
fully, kept  close  to  his  friend.  Struggling  onward, 
without  actually  getting  beyond  their  depth,  they  soon, 
emerged  from  the  cave.  Landing  on  the  shore,  to 
their  great  joy,  they  found  Hugo  with  the  horses 
awaiting  them. 

One  can  imagine  the  young  Count's  delight,  when, 
after  two  hours'  waiting  in  suspense  he  greeted  his 
friends  unharmed.  There  they  stood,  dripping  under 
the  star-studded  sky,  still  slightly  illuminated  by  the 
glare  of  the  now  distant  conflagration.  As  Volga,  al- 
most immediately,  noticed  that  her  horse  was  missing, 
she  turned  to  Hugo,  in  alarm,  for  the  reason.  He  ex- 
plained how  he  had  found  but  three  horses  tied  to  the 
tree,  Kurt  near  them  a  prisoner,  and  that  after  the 
boy  had  cleverly  made  his  escape,  he  had  despatched 
him  on  horseback  to  Falkenstein  to  apprise  the  Prin- 
cess of  what  had  happened. 

"You  must  be  very  tired,  good  friends,"  continued 


230         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

he,  "but  as  you  are  wet  to  the  skin  and  I  feel  chilly 
after  my  two  hours'  waiting,  perhaps  we  had  better 
be  off  and  warm  ourselves  by  exercise." 

"It  hardly  seems  possible,"  said  Conrad,  "that  we 
have  been  so  long  in  the  cave,  now  we  are  out  of  it. 
Verily,  the  cold  water  and  the  witch's  drink  must  have 
in  turn  revived  us.  Hugo,  try  a  taste  of  that  inspir- 
ing beverage." 

"Indeed  I  will,  for  I  need  it,"  answered  the  young 
Count,  "and  I  think  you  will  all  be  better  for  another 
good  draught  after  your  wetting." 

Accordingly,  they  refreshed  themselves.  A  mo- 
ment later  they  were  in  their  saddles.  Volga  took  her 
seat,  to  start  with,  behind  Hugo.  In  high  spirits 
they  rode  through  the  woods  to  the  secret  ford,  which 
they  crossed  in  safety  in  spite  of  the  still  swollen  condi- 
tion of  the  river.  On  gaining  the  open  road,  they  put 
their  horses  to  a  full  run,  feeling  reasonably  sure  that 
none  of  the  enemy  would  be  prowling  about  during 
the  night,  except  possibly  such  as  might  have  been 
sent  out  in  search  of  them  by  way  of  the  upper  ford. 
From  that  possibility  they  were  now  rapidly  gallop- 
ing. Every  stride  of  their  powerful  steeds  brought 
them  nearer  to  their  destination.  Not  until  daylight 
did  they  slacken  their  pace,  or  think  of  taking  to  the 
byways  to  avoid  danger.  Their  route  passed  through 
thickly  wooded  regions.  At  sunrise  they  reached  the 


THE  FLIGHT.  231 

fields  and  meadows  in  the  lovely  garb  of  spring. 
Here  they  allowed  their  horses  to  walk: 

At  noon  they  arrived  at  a  farmhouse  whose  inmates 
were  known  to  Hugo.  They  were  at  first  greatly 
alarmed,  taking  them  for  Pomeranian  foragers,  who 
had  already  carried  away  most  of  their  cattle  and  pro- 
visions. When  our  friends  made  themselves  known 
the  fears  of  the  good  peasants  were  quickly  allayed. 
With  faces  beaming  with  hospitality,  they  informed 
their  now  welcome  guests  that  some  little  had  been 
saved  from  the  marauders,  and  that  a  repast  would 
soon  be  ready  for  them,  and  their  horses  meanwhile 
well  fed.  The  fugitives  made  a  most  excellent  meal 
and  enjoyed  a  good  rest  before  pursuing  their  jour- 
ney. 

In  the  afternoon  they  neared  the  river.  As  far  as 
the  eye  could  reach  no  signs  of  the  enemy  were  seen, 
save  a  few  far  distant  camps  on  the  opposite  shore.  In 
order  to  reach  the  ruins  of  Grunau  that  day,  it  was 
necessary  to  keep  the  road  for  some  time,  being  ready 
at  any  moment  to  take  to  the  woods  at  the  first  ap- 
proach of  danger. 

As  the  highway  continued  clear  of  all  traces  of  sol- 
diery, they  unconsciously  passed  the  last  copse  of 
woods  which  would  have  afforded  them  refuge  in  case 
of  surprise.  Remembering  this  a  little  later,  they  gal- 
loped on  rather  recklessly,  trusting  to  fortune  and 


232         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

their  good  horses  to  carry  them  to  the  ruins,  which 
Kurt  had  told  Hugo  were  not  occupied  by  the  enemy. 
As  the  towers  of  the  Benedictine  Monastery  loomed  up 
in  the  distance,  they  became  suddenly  aware  that  they 
had  come  upon  a  small  Pomeranian  camp,  which,  until 
that  moment,  had  been  hidden  among  the  trees. 
Whether  they  had  been  seen  or  not  they  did  not  take 
time  to  decide. 

The  ruined  battlements  of  Grunau  were  already  in 
sight;  so  they  pressed  toward  them  with  their  horses 
at  full  speed.  Looking  backward  they  saw  that  the 
enemy  were  astir.  A  moment  later  a  score  or  more 
riders  started  in  pursuit.  In  the  exciting  race  which 
followed,  the  fugitives  managed  to  maintain  for  a  time 
the  distance  between  them  and  their  pursuers.  This 
they*  would  not  have  had  the  slightest  chance  of  doing, 
but  for  the  superior  breed  of  their  horses,  each  of 
which  had  in  turn  been  carrying  a  double  load.  Volga, 
just  then,  happened  to  be  seated  behind  Conrad.  Hugo 
noticed  that  their  steaming  steed  was  beginning  to 
lag  behind.  Riding  close  up  to  her,  he  asked,  hurried- 
ly, if  she  thought  she  could  change  horses  at  the  pace 
they  were  going.  Without  a  word,  the  brave  girl 
gained  her  feet,  and  the  next  moment  leaped  from  be- 
hind Conrad;  but  slipping,  threw  her  arms  around 
Hugo's  neck  to  save  herself,  nearly  unhorsing  him. 
Recovering  himself,  the  young  Count  drove  his  spurs 


THE  FLIGHT.  233 

into  his  powerful  horse's  flanks,  and  on  they  sped  once 
more  at  a  terrific  gait.  The  knight  in  command  of  the 
pursuers  had  meanwhile  gained  considerably  upon 
them.  The  Duke,  in  advance  of  the  others,  passed  by 
the  monastery  gate  just  as  the  Abbot,  hearing  the 
tramp  of  horses  and  the  shouts  of  the  pursuing  riders, 
looked  hurriedly  from  his  window  and  saw  Conrad 
with  his  battle-axe  engaged  in  single  combat  with  the 
full  mailed  Pomeranian  leader,  who,  the  next  moment, 
fell  wounded  from  his  horse. 

Our  hero  forged  ahead,  narrowly  escaping  some  of 
the  foremost  horsemen.  The  Duke  gained  the  ruins, 
entered  the  outer  courtyard  through  its  open  gate,  and 
springing  from  his  horse,  picked  up  a  large  beam, 
placing  it  upright  beside  the  opening  just  as  Hugo 
with  Volga  dashed  through.  A  moment  later  Conrad 
entered,  half  a  dozen  Pomeranians  af  his  heels. 

The  Duke  slammed  the  heavy  gate  in  their  faces, 
and  with  Conrad's  aid  placed  the  beam  against  the 
solid  barrier,  fastening  its  end  securely  in  the  ground. 

For  a  moment  they  were  safe.  The  pursuers, 
being  deprived  of  their  leader,  were  undecided  what 
to  do.  Some  remained  to  guard  the  gate,  while  the 
others  returned  to  their  wounded  captain. 

The  Abbot  no  longer  delayed.  Hurriedly  leaving 
his  post  of  observation,  he  despatched,  by  the  way  of 
the  underground  passage,  two  trusty  laymen  with 


234         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

provisions  to  the  ruins.  Following  soon  after, 
clad  in  full  armor  and  carrying  a  battle-axe,  he 
confronted  Conrad  suddenly  in  the  banquet  hall,  re- 
minding him  forcibly  of  the  apparition  of  the  year  be- 
fore, but  the  Abbot  gave  him  no  chance  to  speak. 

"I  have  come,"  he  cried,  "to  help  you  all  here  in 
this  doubtful  stronghold.  I  saw  you  on  the  road.  God 
be  praised  that  you  escaped  from  the  hirelings  of  that 
godless  Prince !  Just  now  he  is  away,  but  he  -may  re- 
turn at  any  moment  to  attack  you.  I  had  this  old 
armor  in  my  closet ;  though  too  small  for  me  now,  I 
managed  to  get  into  it.  I  also  found  my  old  battle- 
axe  and  some  shields,  which  my  trusted  monks  will 
bring  to  you.  Some  will  remain  to  assist  in  defend- 
ing these  ruins.  I  trust  that  other  assistance  will  soon 
reach  you.  The  boy  Kurt  passed  through  here  some 
hours  ago,  telling  me  of  your  flight.  He  expects  to  ar- 
rive at  Falkenstein  tomorrow  before  daylight. 

After  this  recital  the  breathless  Abbot  refreshed 
himself  with  a  glass  of  wine  from  the  stores  he  had 
himself  spread  before  his  guests,  to  whom,  after  their 
recent  privations,  they  seemed  a  godsend. 

The  Abbot  expressed  his  particular  delight  at  see- 
ing Volga,  whom  he  had  not  laid  eyes  on  since,  as  a 
little  girl,  she  had  been  carried  away  by  Hans  von 
Waldhorst.  He  reminded  her  that  she  was  in  her 
native  castle,  which  interested  her  greatly ;  but  being 


THE  FLIGHT.  235 

exhausted  on  account  of  the  fatigue  and  excitement 
of  the  trying  day,  she  retired  early  and  soon  fell  into 
a  deep  sleep. 

The  Abbot,  meanwhile,  in  helping  to  finish  the  last 
bottle,  continued  his  talk.  "I  had  given  up  hoping  to 
see  you  all  again,"  he  said.  "That  Pomeranian  Prince ! 
Holy  Virgin,  how  I  hate  him !  still  has  his  quarters  at 
the  monastery,  and  may  return  at  any  mo- 
ment. I  am  here  to  fight  against  him  by 
your  side,  my  brothers,  whom  I  love,  and  for 
the  sake  of  our  noble  Princess  Ursula,  whom 
we  all  love,  and  in  whose  cause,  if  need  be,  we 
are  ready  to  fight  and  die.  I  am  a  soldier  now,  no 
longer  a  monk.  I  shall  immediately  send  one  of  my 
laymen  to  Falkenstein  to  inform  the  Princess  of  the 
perilous  position  in  which  you  are  placed,  as  you  can- 
not tell  what  may  happen.  The  forces-  from  Luxem- 
burg may  be  retarded  in  their  movements,  and  Prince 
Steffel  may  find  occasion  to  attack  you.  We  must  for- 
tify this  place ;  so  I  shall  at  once  set  to  work  with  my 
monks,  and  continue  throughout  the  night,  if  neces- 
sary, while  you  lie  down  and  rest  after  your  late  severe 
trials." 

It  was  wonderful  to  see  the  energy  with  which  this 
extraordinary  man  set  about  directing  his  assistants, 
and  putting  his  own  hands  to  the  work.  Before  day- 
break he  had  finished  barricading  all  accessible  points, 


236         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

and  had  fortified  the  dilapidated  main  entrance  to  the 
inner  courtyard,  by  filling  it  up  with  heavy  stones 
from  the  fallen  walls  around,  on  the  top  of  which  only 
a  narrow  passage  was  left,  small  enough  to  be  defend- 
ed by  one  man. 

Other  heavy  stones  were  carried  to  the  battlements, 
ready  to  be  hurled  down  upon  the  heads  of  the  enemy. 
A  large  break  in  the  rear  of  the  ruins,  the  wall  of 
which  had  fallen  into  a  remnant  of  the  moat,  was  so 
very  steep,  that  it  seemed  absolutely  impossible  for 
any  one  to  ascend  it,  so  the  Abbot  feared  no  attack 
from  that  quarter.  Little  did  he  dream  that  something 
was  to  happen  on  the  following  day  which  would  draw 
the  attention  of  Prince  Steffel  to  that  very  breach,  the 
accessibility  of  which  might  otherwise  have  remained 
undiscovered. 


THE  SACRIFICE.  237 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  SACRIFICE. 

"Alas!    what  stay  is  there  in  human  state, 
Or  who  can  shun  inevitable  fate?" 

— Dry  den. 

"He  hath  fought  today, 
As  if  a  god,  in  hate  of  mankind,   had 
Destroy'd  in  such  a  shape." 

— Shaks.    Antony  and  Cleopatra. 

The  next  morning,  soon  after  sunrise,  Conrad  was 
roused  from  a  sound  sleep  by  one  of  the  monks  who 
had  been  on  guard  all  night.  This  man  informed  him 
that  a  young  soldier  in  Pomeranian  garb  had  climbed 
up  the  steep  back  breach  before  daylight,  that  he  had 
stated  he  came  from  Falkenstein  with  a  message  to 
the  Duke  and  Knight  Conrad.  He  gave  his  name  as 
Kurt,  and  was  now  asleep  on  the  battlements  with  a 
large  sword  in  his  arms.  Our  hero  arose.  Ascending 
the  winding  steps  he  stood  beside  the  sleeping  boy, 
in  whose  hands,  to  his  great  delight,  he  beheld  his  good 
blade  clasped  tightly,  as  though  he  were  fearful  that 
someone  would  take  it  from  him. 


238          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

Kurt,  stretching  himself,  awoke.  Perceiving  Con- 
rad he  jumped  up  and  handed  him  the  sword,  saying 
that  it  had  been  confided  to  him  by  the  Princess  Ur- 
sula. 

"I  arrived  at  Falkenstein,"  he  added,  "late  last  night. 
Within  an  hour  I  was  again  in  the  saddle  on  my  way 
to  this  place,  where  I  learned  from  a  monk  sent  by  you, 
to  the  Princess,  and  whom  I  met  on  the  way,  that  you 
had  actually  arrived  and  were  fortifying  yourselves. 
This  man  went  on.  The  Princess  told  me  that  she 
would  be  ready  to  start  to  your  assistance  with  a 
goodly  number  of  mounted  knights  at  sunrise  this 
morning.  She  expected  to  reach  the  ferry  before 
nightfall,  where  she  hoped  her  ally  from  Luxemburg 
would  join  her. 

"Thou  bringest  good  news,  my  brave  boy,"  said 
Conrad;  "and  now  that  we  may  hope  for  relief,  and 
may  defend  ourselves  to  the  last,  my  father's  sword  is 
doubly  welcome.  But  where  is  thy  horse,  Kurt  ?" 

"Among  the  trees  yonder,"  replied  the  boy,  "where 
I  hope  he  may  not  be  discovered ;  but  look !  Sir 
Knight;  there  he  is  at  the  foot  of  this  huge  pile  of 
stones,  which  I  had  hard  work  to  climb,  evidently 
bent  upon  following  my  example." 

Sure  enough,  the  faithful  animal  was  trying  to  gain 
a  foothold  along  the  fallen  ruins,  and  to  trace  his  mas- 
ter's steps  up  the  steep  ascent.  He  was  already  half 


THE  SACRIFICE.  239 

way  up.  Kurt  hesitated  no  longer,  but  rushing  down 
the  breach,  reached  the  side  of  his  pet.  Together  they 
climbed  the  rest  of  the  way,  supporting  each  other, 
and  nearly  coming  to  grief  more  than  once  before  they 
arrived  at  the  battlements.  They  little  knew  that 
Prince  Steffel,  who  had  just  returned  to  the  monas- 
tery, had  closely  watched  their  movements  from  his 
window  for  at  least  ten  minutes. 

He  had  returned  that  morning  from  the  smoking 
ruins  of  Waldhorst  Castle  in  a  surly  humor,  being  still 
at  breakfast  when  it  was  reported  to  him  that  the  es- 
caped prisoners  had  entrenched  themselves  in  the  ruins 
of  Grunau. 

Thinking  that  it  would  be  an  easy  matter  for  a  small 
detachment  of  his  troops  to  reduce  the  old  dilapidated 
place  and  recapture  its  inmates,  he  simply  ordered  an 
attack,  while  he  devoted  his  own  energy  to  vanquish- 
ing the  monastery  wines  and  enjoying  his  ease,  as  was 
his  wont  to  do  before  taking  the  field. 

He  was  already  informed  that  the  army  of  Luxem- 
burg had  been  delayed,  and  it  would  be  impossible  on 
that  day  for  it  to  encounter  his  forces  then  awaiting 
it  across  the  river.  For  once,  however,  he  was  un- 
aware of  the  Princess  Ursula's  departure  from  Falk- 
enstein  that  morning. 

Meanwhile  our  friends  and  the  Abbot  were  seated 
around  an  improvised  table  partaking  of  a  breakfast 


240         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

just  sent  from  the  monastery.  They  had  hardly  fin- 
ished when  a  monk,  on  the  lookout,  reported  a  num- 
ber of  the  enemy  advancing  with  scaling  ladders,  evi- 
dently intending  an  immediate  assault. 

They  quickly  prepared  to  defend  the  position. 
The  Duke  and  Hugo  donned  the  two  suits 
of  mail  set  up  in  the  banquet  hall,  too  small  for 
Conrad,  who  having  no  armor,  was  forced  to  content 
himself  with  a  shield  and  a  steel  cap  which  he  had 
found;  but  with  his  trusty  sword  and  the  Princess' 
dagger,  which  he  had  won  at  the  tournament,  he  felt 
equal  to  any  emergency.  He  took  his  position,  single- 
handed,  on  the  narrow  ledge  above  the  inner  entrance. 
Kurt  was  stationed  near  him  inside  the  walls.  The 
Abbot,  with  the  heaviest  battle-axe  in  hand,  planted 
himself  on  the  front  battlement,  the  Duke  and  the 
two  other  monks  being  near,  ready  for  those  who 
might  attempt  to  mount  the  ladders,  with  stones  to 
be  hurled  on  their  heads.  Hugo  took  his  stand  at  an- 
other weak  point  close  to  an  old  ruined  tower,  in  which 
the  dauntless  Volga  had  hidden  with  her  crossbow. 
From  there  the  girl  overlooked  the  outer  courtyard, 
toward  which  the  attack  was  evidently  directed. 

On  came  the  Pomeranians,  entering  the  enclosure  by 
battering  down  the  insecure  gate,  and  advancing  in 
solid  mass  against  the  fortified  ruins.  Heavy  stones 
were  rained  down  upon  them.  One  of  the  knights 


THE  SACRIFICE.  241 

in  command  fell  by  a  bolt  from  Volga's  crossbow, 
which  pierced  his  armor  at  the  neck.  Those  that  tried 
to  scale  the  battlements  were  hurled  back  among  their 
fellows.  When  Conrad  swung  his  immense  sword,  the 
dead  and  wounded  were  piled  upon  each  other ;  yet  on 
they  came,  knights  and  soldiers  taking  the  places  of 
their  fallen  comrades.  Conrad  was  wounded  and  Kurt 
left  his  post  to  inform  the  Abbot  of  the  misfortune. 
A  few  moments  later  the  brave  old  Monastic  Knight 
stood  in  Conrad's  place,  wielding  his  ponderous  bat- 
tle-axe with  telling  effect,  while  our  hero  tried  to  stop 
the  flow  of  blood  from  a  wound  in  his  left  shoulder. 

Two  knights  with  a  large  body  of  followers  now  ad- 
vanced upon  the  Abbot,  determined  to  carry  the  main 
entrance  to  the  fortress,  and  put  an  end  to  its  valiant 
defender.  That  intrepid  warrior,  however,  utterly 
reckless  of  his  own  personal  safety,  advanced  boldly 
against  this  force,  and  while  their  weapons  glanced 
harmlessly  from  shield  and  mail,  his  battle-axe  dealt 
such  blows  upon  their  heads  that  they  rolled 
on  top  of  one  another.  One  of  these  soldiers,  thinking 
the  champion  bore  a  charmed  life,  cried  out  in  alarm : 
"It  is  a  fiend  who  has  taken  the  shape  of  the  late 
Baron !  Ye  cannot  harm  him !  Fly,  comrades !  Fly !" 

A  knight  struck  down  this  coward ;  but  he  himself 
received  a  moment  later  a  death  wound  from  Volga's 

shaft.     Deeming  this  a  bad  omen,  the  superstitious 
10 


242         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

soldiers  fell  back,  and  being  pursued  single-handed  by 
the  Abbot,  who  grew  more  reckless  still,  they  became 
thoroughly  alarmed  and  fled  from  the  ruins,  all  save 
one  knight,  who  rallied  two  stout  squires  and  with 
them  faced  their  charmed  enemy.  It  was  lucky  for 
him  at  this  critical  moment  that  Conrad  was  able  to 
come  to  his  assistance;  for  with  his  timely  aid,  he 
made  short  work  of  these  heavily  mailed  Pomeranians, 
two  being  left  dead  on  the  field,  while  the  third  joined 
in  the  general  flight. 

"Many  thanks,  my  friend,"  ejaculated  the  puffing 
Abbot,  "thou  earnest  to  me  in  the  nick  of  time." 

"Thou  art  a  perfect  wonder,  Sir  Knight  of  St.  Bene- 
dictus,"  replied  Conrad.  "I  never  saw  such  bravery 
and  activity !  What  a  powerful  arm  thou  dost  wield !" 

"Oh,  that's  nothing!"  answered  the  Abbot,  though 
manifestly  pleased  at  his  young  friend's  praise. 

Fastening  the  battered  outer  gate  as  well  as  they 
could  with  the  beam,  they  returned  to  the  ruins  rejoic- 
ing in  their  victory,  though  well  aware  that  they  had 
encountered  but  a  comparatively  small  force,  and  were 
by  no  means  secure  from  further  assault. 

Prince  Steffel,  having  watched  the  attack,  became 
furious  when  he  saw  his  knights  and  vassals  repulsed 
by  so  small  a  number. 

"What?"  he  cried.  "A  mere  handful  of  men  in- 
trenched within  those  miserable  ruins  defy  me?  We 


THE  SACRIFICE.  243 

shall  see !  By  our  lady,  I'll  go  myself  and  show  these 
cowards  how  to  take  an  old  heap  of  stones !" 

He  had  courage  enough,  this  lazy  Pomeranian,  but 
it  needed  rousing.  The  larger  part  of  his  army  was  in- 
active across  the  river,  and  he  might  have  attacked  the 
ruins  in  force  and  reduce  them,  instead  of  making  a 
personal  assault  with  a  small  body,  as  was  now  his  in- 
tention. Pushing  aside  his  still  unfinished  repast,  he 
summoned  messengers  before  him,  and  despatched 
them  across  the  river  with  orders  for  a  few  chosen 
knights  to  join  his  immediately. 

Meanwhile  at  the  ruins  the  Abbot  was  walking 
around,  the  hero  of  the  hour.  To  all  the  praises  of  his 
friends,  he  replied,  "I  am  a  young  man  again;  and 
since  I  have  tasted  blood,  long  for  more,  and  for  a 
chance  to  drive  my  battle-axe  deep  into  that  boor's 
head.  I  would  fain  split  open  that  block  of  iniquity." 

"I  believe  thee,  thou  valiant  knight,"  said  the  Duke, 
"but  perchance  thy  head  might  be  the  first  one  split, 
which  God  forfend!  Volga!  those  bolts  which  dis- 
abled the  two  Pomeranians — was  it  thy  steady  hand 
which  sent  them?" 

"Yes,  my  lord,"  modestly  answered  the  girl. 
"Standing  within  that  tower,  I  was  able,  while  unseen, 
to  take  good  aim,  but  I  have  only  one  bolt  left." 

"Thou  didst  well,  brave  girl!"  said  Duke  Henry, 
"and  notwithstanding  the  valor  and  prowess  of  our 


244          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

Benedictine  warrior  here,  I  think  it  possible  we  might 
have  lost  the  fight  but  for  those  timely  shots." 

"Very  likely,"  interposed  the  Abbot.  "I  do  not  re- 
member much  concerning  these  deeds  of  mine  which 
ye  are  pleased  to  call  wonderful;  but  it  does  seem 
passing  strange  that  my  niece  here,  the  daughter  of 
the  late  Baron  von  Grunau,  should  have  taken  so 
prominent  a  part  in  the  defense  of  these  walls  within 
which  she  first  saw  the  light  some  seventeen  years 
ago." 

Just  at  this  moment  the  monk  who  had  been  sta- 
tioned on  the  lookout  entered  excitedly,  reporting  an 
unusual  movement  on  the  part  of  the  enemy.  The 
whole  party  ascended  the  tower.  From  its  height  they 
could  plainly  see  Prince  Steffel  standing  on  Monastery 
Hill  surrounded  by  a  throng  of  followers.  From  his 
threatening  gestures  and  the  direction  in  which  he 
looked,  they  concluded  that  he  was  speaking  of  the 
feasibility  of  an  attack  on  the  rear  breach. 

These  conjectures  proved  to  be  correct.  The  Prince 
was  indeed  calling  the  attention  of  his  knights  to  the 
possibility  of  crossing  the  deep  ditch  and  scaling  the 
breach  beyond.  "Early  this  morning,"  he  was  saying, 
"I  myself  saw  a  horse  climbing  the  ascent,  and  where 
a  beast  can  go,  we  can  follow.  I  shall  at  once  set  my 
men  at  work  clearing  some  sort  of  path  over  the  fallen 
walls,  by  which  we  can  gain  a  firmer  foothold  in 


THE  SACRIFICE.  245 

climbing  to  the  battlements.  I  shall  scale  them  with 
any  of  you  young  men.  Before  nightfall,  every  cursed 
inmate  of  those  dirty  ruins  shall  either  have  been  killed 
or  be  a  prisoner  in  my  hands." 

This  address,  out  of  hearing  by  the  besieged,  was 
reported  to  them  almost  verbatim  by  the  monk  who 
brought  them  their  mid-day  meal.  He  added,  also, 
that  he  had  heard  the  Prince  order  a  small  contingent 
of  bowmen  from  across  the  river  to  join  in  the  attack. 

No  time  was  to  be  lost.  The  wearied  defenders  of 
Grunau  once  more  made  ready  to  fight  to  the  last  and 
to  sell  their  lives  dearly.  There  was  as  yet  no  signs 
of  Ursula,  nor  was  it  time  to  expect  her.  The  sun 
was  still  high  in  the  heavens,  but  already  some  of  the 
enemy,  with  picks  and  shovels,  were  seen  approaching 
the  ditch.  Our  friends  quickly  began  to  hurl  stones 
upon  them,  and  piled  up  others  at  the  head  of  the 
breach  to  fortify  the  position. 

As  the  missiles  hit  the  workmen,  for  every  man  dis- 
abled three  or  four  took  his  place.  Yet  it  was  a  full 
hour  before  the  heights  were  made  accessible  for  the 
Prince  and  his  followers. 

All  at  once  the  flower  of  Pomeranian  knighthood 
moved  forward.  Crossing  the  ditch  on  a  bridge  of 
piled  up  stones,  they  began  to  ascend  the  heights,  some 
few  of  the  younger  and  favored  knights  in  advance  of 
the  Prince. 


246          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

They  soon  reached  the  stone  barrier  behind  which 
stood  Hugo,  Duke  Henry  and  the  Abbot,  in  full  ar- 
mor, with  battle-axes  raised.  Conrad,  without  mail 
to  protect  him,  stood  a  little  in  the  rear.  Being  weak 
from  his  wound,  he  had  to  lean  against  the  half  fallen 
tower  for  support.  He  was  prepared,  nevertheless, 
to  face  anyone  who  might  gain  the  battlements.  Kurt, 
sabre  in  hand,  stood  near  him,  ready,  if  need  be,  to 
die  either  with  or  for  his  master;  while  Volga  was 
again  at  her  point  of  vantage,  crossbow  and  last  bolt  in 
hand,  thinking  less  of  her  own  safety  than  of  the  lives 
so  dear  to  her. 

The  first  of  the  knights  who,  out-climbing  Prince 
Steffel,  showed  themselves  above  the  entrenchment, 
were  hurled  backward  with  shields  and  heads  split 
open,  their  bodies  serving  as  steps  for  those  behind. 
Some  bowmen,  successful  in  climbing  the  wall, 
were  perching  on  its  broad  surface ;  but  ere  they  could 
get  in  their  work,  the  Abbot,  who  seemed  everywhere 
at  the  same  time,  was  upon  them,  and  split  the  cross- 
bow and  head  of  each  in  turn  with  one  blow  of  his 
mighty  axe. 

Conrad  still  stood  husbanding  his  strength  for  an 
emergency,  which  very  soon  presented  itself. 

Two  knights  having  managed  to  fight  their  way  past 
the  brave  defenders  of  the  breach,  reached  the  battle- 
ments, and  were  about  to  attack  them  in  the  rear. 


THE  SACRIFICE.  247 

Conrad  saw  the  danger.  He  quickly  threw  himself 
between  them  and  his  comrades,  felled  one  of  them  to 
earth  by  his  first  deadly  stroke,  receiving  a  gash  from 
the  other  on  his  already  wounded  shoulder  before 
Kurt  could  prevent  it.  The  boy's  sword  had  fallen 
harmless  on  the  mailed  knight,  who  now  turned  upon 
him,  and  with  a  sweeping  stroke  hurled  him  backward 
some  distance.  The  diversion,  however,  gave  Conrad 
the  opportunity  he  wanted.  His  sword  quickly  de- 
scended on  his  second  adversary,  who  fell  dying  at  his 
comrade's  side. 

But  now  Prince  Steffel  was  seen  impatiently  break- 
ing his  way  through  the  ranks  of  his  knights.  Kurt, 
who  had  only  been  slightly  hurt,  called  his  master's 
attention  at  that  moment  to  a  cloud  of  dust  in  the  dis- 
tance, through  which  could  be  seen,  in  the  front  of  a 
brilliant  array  of  knights  the  figure  of  Ursula  on  her 
matchless  Saladin. 

"God  and  all  the  saints  be  praised!"  shouted  Con- 
rad. "There  conies  the  Princess!  Fight  on,  brave 
comrades !  help  is  at  hand !" 

With  the  din  of  the  fray  none  but  Duke  Henry 
heard  the  shout.  As  he  glanced  for  a  moment  off  his 
guard,  in  the  direction  of  the  coming  help,  he  received 
a  thrust  which  pierced  both  shield  and  mail,  slightly 
wounding  him.  The  Abbot  paid  his  score  by  felling 
the  knight  who  had  faced  his  friend.  Prince  Steffel 


248          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

just  then  appeared  breast  high  before  Hugo,  whose  axe 
had  just  descended  on  another  assailant.  Before  the 
brave  youth  could  again  raise  his  weapon  or  use  his 
shield,  the  giant's  sword  had  pierced  his  left  side  near 
his  heart  and  he  staggered  back,  the  blood  gushing 
from  the  wound.  Volga  would  have  avenged  this 
cruel  act,  had  not  the  thick  mail  prevented  her  bolt, 
which  struck  the  Prince  on  the  neck,  from  penetrating 
any  deeper  than  the  skin.  Dashing  it  aside,  the  giant 
leaped  over  the  battlements  and  making  a  step  or  two 
forward  was  confronted  by  our  young  hero,  pale  and 
bleeding,  with  only  his  sword  and  dagger  for  protec- 
tion, having  lost  his  headgear  during  his  last  en- 
counter, and  thrown  away  his  shield  to  ease  his 
wounded  shoulder. 

A  tremendous  shout  from  Ursula's  followers  now 
rent  the  air.  The  Prince  paused  and  was  about  to  turn 
his  head  to  learn  the  cause  of  the  sudden  uproar,  when 
his  eyes  met  those  of  his  hated  rival.  Forgetting 
everything  save  revenge,  he  called  out  exultingly:  "I 
have  thee  at  last,  thou  beggar !  Thou  shalt  die  like  a 
dog!"  With  that  he  aimed  a  deadly  blow  at  Con- 
rad's head  which,  with  failing  strength,  he  dexterously 
parried,  though  the  force  siruck  the  sword  from  his 
grasp.  He  felt  that  his  time  had  come.  Yet  one 
chance  for  his  life  remained.  Drawing  his  long,  keen- 
edged  dagger,  he  sprang  at  his  adversary.  Getting  in 


THE  SACRIFICE.  249 

between  him  and  his  shield,  before  he  could  strike 
again,  with  the  spasmodic  strength  of  desperation,  he 
succeeded  in  planting  his  blade  in  the  neck  of  his  giant 
foe,  at  the  very  place  where  Volga's  missile  had  already 
pierced  the  armor.  With  a  stifled  curse  between  his 
lips,  the  big  Pomeranian  staggered  backward.  Fall- 
ing, with  a  gurgling  sound  in  his  throat,  he  instantly 
expired. 

Faint  and  bewildered,  scarce  realizing  what  had 
happened,  Conrad  stood  leaning  against  the  tower. 
He  saw  dimly  the  tall  figure  of  a  knight  in  brilliant 
armor,  who  resembled  Wolfram,  Cutting  his  way 
through  the  panic-stricken  Pomeranians.  He  saw  also 
at  his  feet  the  dead  body  of  the  Prince  Commander, 
whom  he  had  just  slain,  but  he  saw  no  more.  His 
head  swam,  his  eyes  closed,  his  arms  fell  listlessly  at 
his  side,  one  hand  mechanically  grasping  the  bloody 
dagger,  and  he  became  well-nigh  unconscious. 

A  familiar  and  beloved  voice  calling  him  by  name 
quickly  revived  him.  Slowly  opening  his  eyes,  he  saw 
Ursula  in  the  act  of  dismounting  from  Saladin,  whom 
she  had  forced  up  the  breach  in  the  wake  of  her  vic- 
torious knights.  She  hurried  to  the  hero's  side,  her 
beautiful  face  animated  with  anxiety  and  love.  Tak- 
ing his  blood-stained  hand  in  hers,  she  pressed  it  to 
her  Heart,  saying: 

"Conrad,  my  love !  thou  art  indeed  sorely  wounded, 


250         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

but  I  am  not  too  late.  No,  no,  my  brave  knight ;  thou 
wilt  live,  if  only  for  my  sake !  Let  me  support  thee !" 
She  gently  placed  her  arm  around  his  bleeding 
shoulder  and  pressed  her  warm,  sweet  lips  to  his, 
which  were  cold  and  dry. 

"My  love!"  she  repeated  with  great  emotion,  as 
Conrad,  unable  to  speak,  watched  her  with  dim  though 
loving  eyes,  "I  am  proud  of  thee.  I  love  thee  with  all 
my  soul.  My  worst  enemy  lies  dead  at  thy  feet,  slain 
by  thy  strong  arm.  If  my  devotion  can  repay  thee  for 
what  thou  hast  done  and  suffered,  I  shall  be  happy  in- 
deed. And  now,  sit  thee  down,  my  beloved.  Let  me 
bind  thy  wounds ;  or  hast  thou  strength  to  go  below 
with  my  assistance  ?" 

"Ursula,  my  darling  and  my  life,"  Conrad  at  last 
found  strength  to  say,  "do  not  let  us  go  below  just  yet. 
Look  around  thee  for  a  moment.  There  stands  thy 
father,  safe,  thank  heaven!  and  the  brave  Abbot  near 
him  talking  to  our  good  friend  Wolfram.  But  who  is 
that  yonder?  It  is  Hugo,  lying  bleeding  on  the 
ground,  and  Volga  bending  over  him.  Go,  my  dar- 
ling, see  if  he  yet  lives.  Brave  lad !  I  have  learned  to 
love  him  as  a  brother." 

The  Princess  took  a  few  steps  toward  the  group  of 
knights,  near  whom  lay  the  young  Count.  Drawing 
nearer  she  saw  the  handsome  face  of  the  forester 
blanched  with  the  pallor  of  death.  On  his  bared 


THE  SACRIFICE.  251 

breast,  next  his  heart,  close  to  the  wound,  lay 
the  engraved  image  of  herself  which  she  had  given 
him  at  the  tournament.  Volga,  regardless  of  every 
one,  was  trying  to  stop  the  flow  of  his  heart's  blood, 
calling  out  to  him,  in  agonizing  accents,  to  speak  to 
her.  Receiving  no  answer  to  her  despairing  appeals, 
she  threw  herself  on  his  body  and  wept  aloud. 

Ursula,  glancing  first  at  the  pale  face  and  then  at  her 
image  so  near  his  heart,  realized  in  that  instant  how  her 
fleeting  fancy  for  him  had  been  more  than  repaid. 
Turning  to  her  father,  she  threw  herself  into 
his  arms  in  a  flood  of  tears.  Wolfram  noted  the  beau- 
tiful woman's  sorrow  in  silence ;  then,  with  a  sigh,  he 
turned  to  the  breach,  ordering  his  men  to  search  every 
nook  and  bush  for  any  lurking  enemy,  and  to  spare 
none. 

The  Princess,  regaining  her  composure,  turned  her 
eyes  to  where  Conrad  stood,  following  her  movements 
with  an  intensely  longing  gaze.  All  other  thoughts 
but  her  great  love  for  her  own  hero  vanished ;  she 
hastened  to  his  side.  When  within  a  step  or  two  of 
him,  something  startling  arrested  her  eye.  One  of  the 
enemy's  bowmen,  having  eluded  all  search,  bent 
on  avenging  the  death  of  his  Prince,  had  climbed  the 
wall  and  was  in  the  act  of  leveling  his  crossbow  at 
Conrad.  Ursula,  horrified,  instantly  comprehended 
her  lover's  danger.  Throwing  herself  in  the  way,  the 


252          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

bolt  intended  for  him  pierced  her  own  devoted  breast. 
The  next  moment  the  daring  marksman  rolled  over, 
his  head  split  open  by  the  Abbot's  battle-axe. 

Ursula  sank  down  at  Conrad's  feet,  a  happy  smile 
flitting  over  her  face. 

"Thank  God,  my  own  Conrad,  I  have  saved  thy  life. 
Thou  must  live  and  be  happy,"  she  faltered.  "Remem- 
ber Rosalie." 

With  every  word  her  voice  grew  fainter.  Conrad, 
with  a  cry  of  agony,  caught  her  in  his  arms. 

"Kiss  me  farewell,  my  own,"  she  murmured,  tender- 
ly. "We  shall  meet  again  in  another — a  more  beautiful 
world." 

He  kissed  her  quivering  lips,  while  the  warm 
torrent  issuing  from  his  wounds  mingled  with  the 
heart's  blood  of  his  dying  love.  A  slight  tremor  shook 
her  frame.  Looking  into  his  eyes  with  an  expression 
of  yearning  her  sweet  spirit  took  its  flight  to  that  land 
where  life  is  life  indeed,  and  everlasting,  and  where 
perfect  love  rules  supreme. 

Conrad  pressed  the  beloved  eyelids  with  his  ashen 
lips  and  staggered  to  his  feet.  Looking  down,  he  for 
the  first  time  noticed  the  Duke,  who  was  kneeling  at 
the  other  side  of  his  daughter,  sobbing  bitterly.  If  the 
Princess  had  seen  him,  she  had  not  turned  to  him,  her 
last  words  and  looks  being  only  for'  her  lover.  But 
Duke  Henry  had  heard  those  words  of  tender  love 


THE  SACRIFICE.  253 

and  trust,  and  they  had  moved  him  greatly.  Putting 
aside  all  envious  feelings,  he  gave  himself  up  to  un- 
controllable grief  at  the  loss  of  his  darling  daughter. 

"She  died  for  thee,  my  son!"  he  said,  at  last,  in  a 
broken  voice,  looking  at  Conrad.  "She  loved  thee 
with  all  her  soul.  Untimely  as  is  her  death,  it  could 
not  have  been  more  beautiful."  He  could  say  no  more. 

Conrad  found  it  impossible  to  reply.  Leaning  back 
against  the  wall  of  the  tower,  his  mind  grew  confused. 
The  terrible  scenes  through  which  he  had  passed 
seemed  like  an  evil  dream.  He  became  completely 
dazed.  A  feeling  that  he  was  about  to  die  also 
and  follow  his  dear  love  took  hold  of  him,  sending  a 
thrill  of  peaceful  joy  through  his  weary  and  torn  heart. 

He  was  about  to  sink  down  by  the  side  of  the  beau- 
tiful, inanimate  form  at  his  feet  when  the  voice  of 
Kurt  brought  him  back  to  himself  for  a  moment. 
Opening  his  blurred  eyes,  he  saw  before  him  a  goblet 
brimming  full  of  wine,  which  the  heart-broken  boy 
was  holding  to  him,  trying  to  force  it  between  his  lips. 
Conrad  at  first  repelled  it.  He  finally  drained  it  me- 
chanically. As  the  liquid  stirred  through  his  veins, 
strength  and  consciousness  partially  revived. 

Kurt  offered  to  assist  his  master  below,  but  he  waved 
him  off,  saying:  "What  is  the  matter  with  Saladin? 
Look  at  him !  Either  my  eyes  deceive  me,  or  he  is 


254          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

wounded  and  bleeding.  Come  hither,  my  faithful 
steed!" 

With  Kurt's  assistance  the  fast-failing  animal  stag- 
gered to  his  master's  side.  "Poor  old  Saladin !"  mut- 
tered Conrad,  patting  his  beautiful  neck,  "thou,  too, 
art  going." 

As  he  said  these  words,  the  noble  beast  rubbed  his 
head  faintly  against  his  master's,  then  trembling  vio- 
lently for  a  few  moments,  fell,  and  rolled  gently  over 
so  close  to  the  body  of  Ursula  that  his  head  touched 
hers.  With  one  last  tremor,  he,  too,  expired. 

"Poor  old  comrade,"  whispered  Conrad,  "faithful  to 
the  last,  dying  for  me  as  did  thy  mistress !" 

He  looked  intently  once  more  on  the  face  of  the 
dead  woman,  even  more  gloriously  beautiful,  it  then 
seemed,  than  he  had  ever  seen  it  in  life.  Kneeling 
down,  he  kissed  her  cold  lips ;  then  summoning  all  his 
strength,  he  took  her  up  bodily  and  carried  her  below. 
There  he  laid  her  upon  the  same  couch  in  the  ghastly 
banquet  hall  which  a  year  before  he  had  himself  occu- 
pied. Sinking  down  on  the  floor  beside  her,  he,  too, 
was  wrapped  in  merciful  oblivion. 

Thus,  in  the  pride  and  power  of  her  youth  and  love- 
liness, nobly  died  Ursula,  the  brave,  the  beautiful  and 
the  good. 


AT  THE  HOSPITAL.  255 


CHAPTER  XX. 

AT  THE  HOSPITAL. 

"I  feel 

Of  this  dull  sickness  at  my  heart  afraid! 
And  in  my  eyes  the  death-sparks  flash  and  fade; 
And  something  seems  to  steal 
Over  my  bosom  like  a  frozen  hand." 

—Willis. 

The  day  after  the  dearly  bought  victory  of  Grunau 
Castle,  both  the  monastery  and  inn  had  been  convert- 
ed into  hospitals.  In  the  afternoon  a  bloody  battle  was 
fought  between  the  forces  under  Wolfram,  combined 
with  those  of  Luxemberg,  and  the  now  demoralized 
Pomeranians,  in  which  the  latter  were  nearly  annihilat- 
ed. This  added  many  to  the  wounded  and  dying.  In 
the  banquet  hall  at  the  ruins  lay  the  still  forms  of  Ur- 
sula, Hugo  and  the  unconscious  Conrad ;  while  every 
other  available  nook  or  shelter  was  filled  with  sufferers. 
The  Convent  of  St.  Agnes,  which  like  other  convents  in 
Europe  had  contributed,  since  the  Crusades,  nurses 
for  the  hospitals,  even  as  far  away  as  the  Holy  Land, 
sent  its  full  contingent  of  nuns  to  the  heart-rending 
scene. 


256          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

It  was  not  until  the  dawn  had  begun  to  mingle  with 
the  faint  light  of  the  solitary  lamp  in  the  banquet  room, 
that  Conrad  awoke  to  the  consciousness  of  his  cruel 
fate,  realizing  that  he  was  still  alive. 

Gradually  opening  his  eyes  he  found  Kurt  at  his 
side  anxiously  watching  him.  The  boy  would  have 
shouted  with  delight  at  seeing  his  master  show  signs 
of  returning  life,  had  he  not  been  warned  by  the  Monk 
in  attendance  during  the  night  to  keep  quiet.  Placing 
his  finger  against  his  lips,  he  whispered  softly  in  Con- 
rad's ear :  "Brother  Ignatius,  the  leech,  who  bound  up 
your  lordship's  wounds,  left  this  potion  to  be  taken 
every  hour.  He  told  me  under  no  circumstances  to 
allow  you  to  talk.  I  will  tell  you  of  those  about  whom 
you  are  anxious.  The  leech  has  been  busy  over  the 
body  of  Count  Hugo  all  night.  Methinks  he  said,  be- 
fore leaving,  that  a  spark  of  life  yet  remained.  Mistress 
Volga  has  never  left  his  side,  calling  his  name  to  bring 
him  back  to  life.  I  also  saw  her  try  to  get  him  to  swal- 
low the  leech's  medicine." 

Conrad,  where  he  lay,  had  a  clear  view  of  the  room, 
and  in  the  increasing  light  saw  everything  as  Kurt 
had  described  it,  while  in  the  depths  of  his  sad  heart  he 
sympathized  with  Volga  in  the  hopelessness  of  her  ef- 
forts. 

The  leech  again  entered  the  room.  Stepping  softly 
to  Conrad's  side  and  examining  him  critically,  he  pro- 


AT  THE  HOSPITAL.  25? 

nounced  him  to  be  out  of  immediate  danger.  Then 
turning  to  Volga,  who  sat  immovable,  her  eyes  riveted 
on  the  beloved  features  lying  cold  and  still  before  her, 
he  said :  "While  there  is  but  a  little  life,  there's  hope. 
Hast  thou  succeeded  in  getting  him  to  swallow  ?" 

"I  have  made  ceaseless  attempts,"  feebly  answered 
the  girl,  "all  in  vain !" 

"Then  let  us  take  some  of  the  witch's  mixture,  to 
which  I  will  add  a  few  drops  of  my  own  elixir,  and 
make  another  trial,"  said  the  leech.  "I  will  help  thee !" 

They  had  been  working  with  the  patient  for  more 
than  an  hour  with  no  apparent  success,  when  a  very 
slight  tremor  seemed  to  pervade  his  entire  frame. 

Finally,  and  by  almost  a  miracle,  the  stricken  youth 
actually  swallowed  a  goodly  quantity  of  the  potion. 
"Thanks  be  to  our  Good  Lady,"  whispered  the  rever- 
end leech,  "there  is  more  hope  now !  Take  courage !" 

The  reaction  being  too  great  for  Volga,  she  burst 
into  an  uncontrollable  flood  of  tears.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments she  was  herself  a  proper  subject  for  the  leech's 
kindly  attention.  Begging  her  to  lie  down  and  rest, 
he  promised  to  call  her  as  soon  as  her  services  were 
required. 

The  Duke,  who  had  been  a  silent  witness  of  the 
foregoing,  now  came  up  to  Conrad.  Extending  his 
hand,  he  said:  "I  am  rejoiced  to  see  thee  gaining 

strength.    Thou,  my  Conrad,  art  all  that  is  now  left  to 
17 


258          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

me,  and  to  her  who  gave  life  to  the  dear  departed  one. 
If  the  shock  does  not  kill  her,  thou  must  try  to  get 
well  for  her  sake  as  well  as  mine." 

"I  cannot  say  that  I  have  any  desire  to  live,"  an- 
swered Conrad,  faintly.  "The  wish  of  my  heart  is  to 
follow  Ursula." 

"Conrad,"  said  the  Duke,  "Ursula  died  for  thee  that 
thou  mightest  live.  It  is  then  only  thy  duty  to  wish  to 
remain  with  us  until  God  calls  thee  in  his  own  good 
time  to  join  her  who,  in  loving  thee  and  dying  for  thee, 
gave  thee  a  beautiful  example  of  self-sacrifice.  The 
leech  has  just  informed  me  that  he  will  remove  thee 
and  Hugo  to  better  quarters  in  the  monastery.  Prom- 
ise me  to  husband  thy  strength,  and  to  use  all  means 
toward  thy  recovery,  that  thou  may'st  supply  the  place 
in  her  aging  parents'  hearts  once  filled  by  Ursula." 

Conrad  looked  at  the  sad  countenance  of  his  noble 
friend.  Deeply  moved,  he  gave  him  the  desired  prom- 
ise. 

The  brave  old  Abbot  now  put  in  an  appearance,  clad 
once  more  in  the  garb  of  his  order.  He  seemed  very 
lame,  while  a  shade  of  pallor  overspread  his  rubicund 
visage.  On  being  asked  if  he,  too,  had  been  wound- 
ed, he  replied  in  the  negative;  but  stated  that  he  felt 
somewhat  sore  and  tired  by  reason  of  his  unusual  ex- 
ercise the  day  before.  Turning  to  Conrad,  he  said: 
"I  have  come  to  see  how  thou  and  Hugo  are  this  morn- 


AT  THE  HOSPITAL.  259 

ing ;  and  to  tell  thee  that  thou  art  to  be  moved  within 
the  next  two  hours  to  the  best  room  in  the  monastery. 
When  I  get  thee  there,  good,  brave  Sir  Knight,  I  shall 
nurse  thee  with  my  own  hands,  and  mind  that  thou 
dost  what  I  tell  thee !" 

Conrad  smiled  faintly,  pressing  the  Abbot's  hand 
with  trembling  fingers. 

The  old  prelate  then  hobbled  over  to  the  Duke.  In 
a  few  touching  words  he  expressed  his  deep  sympathy 
at  his  sad  loss.  "I  have  sore  limbs  and  sinews  today, 
my  lord,"  he  added,  "but  they  don't  count  for  any- 
thing. May  God  forgive  me  for  having  slain  so  many 
human  beings  yesterday ;  but  may  He  also  accept  my 
thanks  for  permitting  me,  for  one  day,  to  be  a  soldier 
again,  and  to  do  a  soldier's  duty.  Today  I  am  once 
more  a  man  of  peace,  ready  to  do  deeds  of  peace,  such 
as  tending  the  sick  and  wounded,  before  I  attempt  to 
nurse  my  own  aching  limbs."  The  Duke  could  not 
repress  a  sad  smile  at  his  old  friend's  quaint  humor. 

"I  do  not  wonder,  holy  father,"  said  he,  "that  thou 
art  lame  and  stiff  after  thy  tremendous  exertions  of 
yesterday ;  but  how  such  a  bloodthirsty  being  as  thou 
didst  prove  thyself  can  fill  the  quiet  and  peaceful  place 
of  a  sick-nurse,  puzzles  me." 

"That  furious  warrior,  my  lord,"  answered  the  pre- 
late, with  the  old  twinkle  in  his  eyes,  "was  my  other 
self.  What  that  other  self  does,  my  real  self  is  not  al- 


260          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

ways  responsible  for.  This,  our  young  wounded 
knight  here  knows;  but,  seriously,  my  lord,  tell  me 
how  fares  the  young  Count  of  Waldhorst.  Is  it  true 
that  he  has  nearly  come  to  life  again  ?" 

"It  would  seem  so,"  answered  Duke  Henry.  "The 
leech  appears  to  have  hope  now.  With  such  a  faithful 
nurse  as  Volga,  he  may  yet  recover." 

"She  is  a  brave,  good  girl,  that  niece  of  mine,"  said 
his  reverence.  "I  am  proud  of  her;  and  hope  for  her 
sake  that  the  young  man,  who,  I  see  plainly,  holds  the 
place  in  her  heart  of  both  brother  and  lover,  may  live." 

Toward  evening  Conrad  was  placed  on  a  stretcher 
for  removal  to  the  monastery.  Before  leaving  he  was 
carried  to  Hugo's  side.  Glancing  at  him  for  a  mo- 
ment, he  whispered  into  Volga's  ear  words  of  encour- 
agement. He  was  then  taken  slowly  to  the  couch  on 
which  lay  in  all  her  regal  stateliness  the  magnificent 
form  of  his  dead  love.  Gazing  for  a  while  at  the  beauti- 
ful smile  which  still  hovered  about  the  sweet  lips,  he 
cried  in  the  agony  of  despair :  "Never,  never  again  in 
this  world,  shall  I  see  thee,  Ursula,  my  love !"  He  hid 
his  convulsed  face  in  his  trembling  hands,  until  the 
kind  voice  of  the  Duke  gently  roused  him. 

"My  poor  son,"  said  he,  "even  in  the  sorrow  of  my 
own  sore  bereavement,  my  heart  bleeds  for  thee. 
Promise  me  that  as  soon  as  thou  art  well  enough  to 
leave  thy  bed,  thou  wilt  come  to  Falkenstein.  My 


AT  THE  HOSPITAL.  261 

home  hereafter  is  thy  home.  All  that  is  mine  will  be 
thine  some  day.  Fare  thee  well,  my  noble  Conrad.  I 
shall  give  thy  love  to  Ursula's  mother,  and  tell  her 
that  thou  wilt  be  a  son  to  her." 

"Yes,  a  son,"  softly  said  our  hero,  "but  without  the 
real  right  to  the  name  of  which  cruel  fate  has  deprived 
me.  I  would  live  only  in  memory  of  Ursula.  In  doing 
so,  I  shall  find  solace  in  the  love  and  companionship 
of  her  beloved  father  and  mother." 

The  older  knight  pressed  the  hand  of  the  younger 
and  turned  away. 

On  his  way  to  the  monastery,  Conrad  was  overtaken 
by  Volga,  who  whispered  excitedly  in  his  ear  that 
Hugo  had  just  taken  another  potion,  and  for  the  first 
time  since  he  was  wounded  a  faint  color  of  life  seemed 
to  have  returned  to  his  face.  "We  shall  be  with  thee  at 
the  monastery  in  a  few  days.  I  must  tell  thee,  also," 
she  added,  "that  our  kind  and  generous  friend,  the 
Duke,  wishes  me  to  bring  Hugo  to  Falkenstein  as  soon 
as  he  is  well  enough  to  make  the  journey.  So  thou 
seest,  dear  Conrad,  that  we  shall  be  together  again, 
if — if  only — Hugo  recovers !" 

"God  grant  that  he  may!"  said  Conrad,  softly. 
"Hugo  is  very  dear  to  me,  dearer  than  ever  now,  and 
so  art  thou,  my  brave  companion  of  many  dangers ; 
I  pray  thee,  therefore,  do  not  overtax  thy  strength. 
Wilt  thou  promise  me  this  ?" 


262          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

"I  promise !"  said  Volga,  smiling  through  her  tears. 

The  saddest  duty  of  all  yet  remained  to  the  sorrow- 
ing Duke.  He  departed  for  Falkenstein,  taking  with 
him  the  body  of  Ursula.  He  arrived  at  the  castle  the 
third  day  after  the  fatal  battle,  the  Duchess  mean- 
while having  been  apprised  of  their  irreparable  loss. 
That  noble  invalid  seemed  to  bear  her  sorrow  better 
than  he  had  anticipated,  frequently  asserting  that  she 
had  many  a  time  feared  that  Ursula,  with  all  her  spirit, 
was  too  pure  and  good  to  remain  long  in  this  world. 
Now  that  she  was  gone,  her  example  of  heroic  and 
perfect  womanhood  had  made  her  death  more  beauti- 
ful than  she  could  ever  have  imagined.  The  funeral 
took  place  two  weeks  before  the  twenty-second  anni- 
versary of  the  Princess'  birthday ;  on  which  day,  it  had 
been  understood  of  late,  she  was  to  have  wedded  Con- 
rad von  Rheinstein. 

From  far  and  near,  rich  and  poor,  young  and  old, 
came  to  pay  their  last  tribute  to  the  memory  of  one 
who  had  been  a  benefactor  to  all  and  universally  be- 
loved. 

A  week  later,  Wolfram,  the  devoted  minstrel,  stood 
alone  for  a  long  time  in  deep  meditation  at  the  grave 
of  the  only  woman  he  had  ever  loved.  He  there  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  he  could  now,  better  perhaps 
than  had  she  lived,  make  her  truly  his  own,  in  thought 
and  in  song. 


THE  ACTS  OF  A  REFRACTORY  PATIENT.    263 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

THE  ACTS  OF  A   REFRACTORY  PATIENT. 

"You  may  as  well 

Forbid  the  sea  for  to  obey  the  moon, 
As,   or  by  oath,   remove  or  counsel,  shake 
The  fabric  of  his  folly." 

— Shaks.    Winter's  Tale. 

At  the  monastery,  in  a  bright,  sunny  chamber  over- 
looking the  river,  nursed  alternately  by  the  Abbot  and 
Kurt,  lay  Conrad.  Kurt  had  grown  very  dear  to  him ; 
while  the  boy,  since  the  death  of  his  mistress,  also 
clung  to  his  master  apparently  with  his  very  life.  He 
had  adored  Ursula,  worshiping  her  after  his  boyish 
fashion;  but  now  that  she  had  forever  vanished,  he 
seemed  to  have  aged,  caring  for  no  one  save  his  ideal 
knight,  the  nearest  and  dearest  to  her.  He  related 
to  him  many  details  of  her  life  at  Falkenstein,  speak- 
ing particularly  of  her  anxiety  after  her  repeated  fail- 
ures to  relieve  her  father  and  lover  at  Waldhorst. 

Conrad  listened  with  mournfully  absorbing  interest 
to  all  that  Kurt  had  to  say;  and  learned  to  know  by 
little  things  which  he  alone  understood  how  truly 
Ursula  had  loved  and  missed  him. 


264         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

One  day  he  told  Kurt  of  the  forebodings  which  had 
possessed  her,  on  seeing  from  the  convent  window 
the  year  before  the  ground  covered  with  withered 
leaves.  Strange  and  unaccountable  as  this  mood  had 
always  seemed  to  Conrad,  he  now  learned  from  Kurt 
that  frequently  in  his  absence,  on  her  return  from  mis- 
sions of  charity,  she  would  stop  Saladin,  gazing  dream- 
ily and  sadly  into  the  far  distance.  At  such  times  her 
eyes  would  fill  with  tears.  These  melancholy  fits 
never  lasted  long,  however,  as  she  generally  galloped 
home,  apparently  in  good  spirits. 

For  a  week,  affairs  at  the  monastic  hospital  were 
uneventful.  Conrad  slowly  but  steadily  improved ; 
while  Hugo,  under  the  care  of  the  indefatigable  Volga, 
still  hovered  between  life  and  death.  The  leech  divided 
his  time  between  them,  wondering  at  the  endurance  of 
the  girl,  who  had  all  her  life  been  accustomed  to  out- 
door exercise. 

During  three  days  of  watching  and  praying  by  the 
bedside  of  the  only  one  she  had  ever  loved,  Volga  had 
grown  into  womanhood.  When  she  thought  him  dead, 
she  had  then  realized  how  dear  Hugo  was  to  her; 
and  now  that  her  care  and  devotion  had  actually 
brought  him  back  to  life,  she  fully  understood  the 
power  and  depth  of  her  love. 

When  at  last,  on  the  eighth  day,  he  opened  his  eyes 
with  a  kindly  look  of  recognition,  she  fell  on  her  knees 


THE  ACTS  OF  A  REFRACTORY  PATIENT.    265 

by  his  bedside,  and  hiding  her  face  in  her  hands,  re- 
lieved her  overburdened  heart  with  joyous  weeping. 
That  night  she  retired  to  rest  for  the  first  time  since 
her  arrival  at  the  monastery. 

Conrad,  too,  was  now  rapidly  recovering.  The  Abbot 
often  entertained  him  with  anecdotes  of  his  early  ad- 
ventures and  battles  in  which  he  had  been  engaged, 
years  before,  with  the  father  of  Prince  Steffel.  "No 
better  man,"  he  said,  "than  his  son." 

Speaking  of  that  time,  one  day,  he  added :  "I  then 
wore  the  same  armor  and  used  the  identical  battle-axe 
which  did  me  such  good  service  in  the  late  defense  of 
Grunau.  But  thou  hast  no  idea,  my  young  friend,  how 
I  suffered  after  that  desperate  fight.  I  did  not 
say  much  about  it ;  but  the  way  my  bones  and  muscles 
ached  after  being  squeezed  for  twenty-four  hours  for 
the  first  time  in  twenty  years,  in  that  old  suit  of  mail, 
I  will  leave  thee  to  imagine." 

"Thou  forgettest,  reverend  father,"  interposed  Con- 
rad, "that  thou  didst  wear  it  on  one  occasion  in  that 
ghastly  banquet  hall,  as  the  spectre  of  thy  twin 
brother." 

"As  I  told  thee,  young  sir,  what  I  or  what  my 
spectre  wore,  does  not  count;  I  spoke  of  the  time," 
added  he,  with  the  same  old  mischievous  smile,  "even  I 
was  as  gay  and  as  much  alive,  if  not  as  handsome,  a 
young  knight  as  thou  art ;  or  rather,  I  should  say,  as 


266         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

thoti  wert  before  being  laid  low  in  this  abominable 
manner." 

"Thou  wert  as  much  alive  as  any  on  that  fatal 
though  victorious  day,  with  thy  ponderous  battle-axe," 
suggested  Conrad,  "and  it  is  a  wonder  to  me  that  thou 
wert  not  wounded,  like  Hugo  and  me.  How  is  that 
poor  lad  ?  As  bad  as  ever  ?" 

"No,  I  rejoice  to  tell  thee  he  is  better,"  said  the 
Abbot.  "I  forgot  to  mention  it  before.  The  crisis 
seems  to  have  passed.  He  opened  his  eyes  this  morn- 
ing and  recognized  Volga." 

Conrad  was  overjoyed.  Feeling  stronger  than  he 
had  yet  done,  he,  with  the  help  of  his  reverence,  now 
partly  dressed  himself  and  took  a  seat  near  the  win- 
dow. 

As  he  drank  in  the  exhilarating  air  on  the  balmy 
spring  day,  noting,  as  he  had  done  one  short  year  be- 
fore, the  sunlight,  "dancing  on  the  river,"  the  zest  of 
life,  which  had  well-nigh  left  him,  seemed  partially 
to  return.  Listening  to  the  love  songs  of  the  birds,  and 
inhaling  the  fragrance  ot  the  budding  trees,  a  picture 
of  himself,  drifting  down  that  same  river  with  Duke 
Henry  and  Rosalie,  rose  vividly  before  him.  He  re- 
called their  landing  at  yonder  bower  and  his  walk  to 
and  from  the  Convent  of  St.  Agnes.  Finally,  the  last 
scene  between  Rosalie  and  himself,  when  he  promised 
faithfully  to  call  for  her  at  the  end  of  her  trial  year,  pre- 


THE  ACTS  OF  A  REFRACTORY  PATIENT.    267 

sented  itself  distinctly  to  his  mind.  He  felt  as  though 
he  were  awaking  from  a  dream,  yet  the  old  scenes 
failed  to  arouse  any  emotion  within  his  lacerated 
heart. 

Having  lost  all  reckoning  as  to  time,  he  asked  the 
Benedictine  the  day  of  the  month.  The  Abbot  gave 
him  the  desired  information,  and  at  the  same  time  re- 
minded him  that  it  was  time  for  him  to  return  to  bed. 

Conrad  obeyed ;  but  his  thoughts  were  too  busy  for 
him  to  sleep.  The  time  to  fulfill  his  promise  to  Rosalie 
was  near  at  hand.  "Of  course,"  murmured  he,  "it  is 
out  of  the  question  for  me  to  think  of  leaving  my  sick- 
room, therefore  I  will  send  word  to  Rosalie  to  await 
my  recovery  at  the  convent ;  or  else,  should  it  be  neces- 
sary for  her  to  leave  sooner,  to  proceed  to  Falkenstein 
under  proper  escort.  Meanwhile  I  shall  confer  with 
the  Duke." 

Accordingly,  when  the  Abbot  paid  his  usual  visit, 
Conrad  requested  him  to  send  a  message  forthwith  to 
the  Duke  to  ascertain  his  pleasure  regarding  Rosalie ; 
also  to  go  himself  to  the  Abbess  that  very  afternoon 
to  arrange  everything  for  the  girl's  departure. 

The  good  prelate  went  immediately  as  desired,  leav- 
ing our  hero  to  his  thoughts.  On  his  return,  he  found 
him  again  seated  at  the  open  window.  Scolding  him 
right  sharply  for  his  imprudence,  he  ordered  him  back 
to  bed. 


268  KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

Seating  himself  in  a  comfortable  chair,  the  Abbot 
began  as  follows:  "I  am  sorry  to  tell  thee,  good  Sir 
Knight,  that  I  could  make  no  arrangements  whatever 
to  take  Rosalie  from  the  convent." 

Looking  up  in  -surprise,  Conrad  asked  what  his  rev- 
erence meant. 

"I  mean  that  we  are  too  late." 

"Too  late?"  echoed  Conrad,  sitting  up  in  bed. 

"Lie  down,  sir!"  commanded  the  Abbot;  "it  is  un- 
wise for  thee  to  sit  up  in  that  excited  state.  Yes,  we 
are  too  late !  The  report  that  thou,  the  Princess,  Hugo 
and  even  I,  had  been  killed  at  the  ruins  reached  the 
convent  two  weeks  ago.  That  was  within  three  days 
of  the  time  in  which  Rosalie,  of  her  own  free  will,  was 
to  decide  whether  or  not  she  would  take  the  veil.  The 
Abbess  must  have  verified  the  sad  tidings ;  and  this, 
in  all  probability,  hastened  the  poor  girl's  decision  to 
become  a  nun." 

"Go  on !"  said  Conrad,  "let  me  hear  all." 

"Go  on  ?"  repeated  the  Abbot,  "there  is  nothing  to 
go  on  with,  save  that  the  young  damsel  has  entered 
her  last  week  of  probation  before  taking  her  vows, 
during  which  she  is  allowed  to  speak  to  no  one,  ex- 
cept the  nuns  having  her  in  charge.  She  is  completely 

> 
excluded  from  the  world.    In  three  days  she  will  be 

shut  out  from  it  forever." 

"But,"  asked  Conrad,  greatly  excited,  "didst  thou 


THE  ACTS  OF  A  REFRACTORY  PATIENT.    269 

not  tell  the  Abbess  that  both  Hugo  and  I  were  alive  ? 
and  did  she  not  see  for  herself  that  thou,  as  well,  art 
very  much  so?" 

"She  must  have  known  it  all,"  answered  the  Abbot, 
"but  kept  it  from  Rosalie,  in  order  not  to  prevent  her 
decision  at  the  last  moment." 

Conrad,  out  of  patience,  again  sat  up  in  bed,  ex- 
claiming, "Am  I  to  understand,  holy  father,  that  even 
now,  if  Rosalie  should  hear  of  her  brother's  and  my 
convalescence,  she  would  not  retrace  her  step  or 
change  her  resolution?" 

"That  is  precisely  the  situation,"  replied  the  Abbot ; 
"or,  more  properly  speaking,  if  she  now  should  hear 
of  it,  which  is  well-nigh  impossible,  and  wish  to 
change,  she  could  not.  The  laws  of  the  convent  are 
very  strict,  and  in  accordance  with  the  direct  edicts  of 
His  Holiness,  the  Pope." 

"Nonsense !"  exclaimed  our  hero.  "Confound  such 
laws !  They  are  both  arbitrary  and  unjustifiable.  I 
myself  would  like  nothing  better  than  to  break  them !" 

"A  very  wicked  thought,  my  young  friend,"  replied 
the  Abbot.  "Thou  must  not  talk  in  this  excited  way 
again.  It  can  do  no  possible  good,  and  may  bring  on  a 
relapse.  Lie  down  and  compose  thyself." 

Conrad  threw  himself  back  on  his  pillow,  ponder- 
ing over  the  matter  in  deep  thought,  the  Abbot  watch- 
ing him  curiously  the  while.  At  length  Conrad  re- 


270          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

sumed :  "I  have  thought  it  over,  holy  father,  and  have 
concluded  that  since  it  seems  I  must  live,  contrary  to 
my  desire,  the  sooner  I  get  well  the  better.  Therefore 
I  shall  try  to  sleep." 

The  good  man,  much  relieved,  heartily  applauded 
this  resolution.  As  he  had  other  duties  to  perform,  he 
left  his  patient  with  the  parting  injunction  to  keep 
quiet.  As  soon,  however,  as  he  had  closed  the  door  be- 
hind him,  Conrad  summoned  Kurt.  In  a  whisper,  he 
bade  him  find  out  from  some  source,  possibly  the  Ab- 
bot's servants,  at  what  hour  the  nuns  at  the  convent 
went  for  their  daily  devotions  in  the  chapel,  which  he 
knew  to  be  situated  in  the  rear  of  the  main  buildings. 
"Be  careful,"  he  added,  "that  not  a  word  of  this  reaches 
the  Abbot's  ears !" 

The  boy,  as  we  know,  had  ere  this  time  been  fre- 
quently entrusted  with  important  errands ;  so  seeming 
clearly  to  understand  his  master's  object,  he  started 
on  his  confidential  mission  without  delay. 

A  moment  later  Conrad,  hardly  knowing  what  he 
was  doing,  rose  without  assistance.  In  trying  to  stand, 
he  was  compelled  to  lay  hold  on  the  chair  beside  his 
bed  for  support.  After  a  short  pause,  he  made  a  step 
forward,  finally  managing  to  walk  the  entire  length  of 
the  room;  but  in  his  efforts  to  return,  dizziness  at- 
tacked him.  He  nearly  fell  to  the  floor  before  reaching 
the  bed.  He  was  none  too  quick  in  scrambling  be- 


THE  ACTS  OF  A  REFRACTORY  PATIENT.    271 

neath  the  covering,  as  the  Abbot  suddenly  re-entered 
bringing  the  patient's  supper,  remarking  as  he  set  it 
down  that  he  had  seen  Kurt  go  out,  but  he  knew  not 
whither. 

"The  poor  lad,  tired  of  monastic  life,  has,  I  suppose, 
gone  for  a  little  stroll,"  stammered  Conrad,  still  short 
of  breath  by  reason  of  his  unwonted  exertion,  while  the 
tell-tale  flush  in  his  face  attracted  the  Abbot's  scrutiny. 
He  forbore  questioning  him,  however,  in  his  astonish- 
ment at  the  increased  appetite  of  his  patient,  who  ate 
as  he  had  not  done  since  his  illness  began. 

Luckily,  Kurt  did  not  return  during  the  Abbot's 
visit ;  so  that  instead  of  being  scolded  as  he  might  have 
been,  to  avert  suspicion,  he  was  commended  highly  for 
bringing  the  desired  information.  After  a  restless 
night,  Conrad  rose  early,  and  with  Kurt's  assistance, 
completely  dressed  himself.  Having  disposed  of  his 
breakfast,  he  crossed  the  room  leaning  on  the  boy's 
shoulder.  After  that  he  took  his  seat  at  the  open  win- 
dow. There  the  Abbot  found  him,  and  was  so  amazed 
that  he  stared  at  him  in  perfect  wonder,  being,  the 
while,  absolutely  speechless. 

"I  slept  so  well,"  said  our  hero,  with  a  reckless  hand- 
ling of  the  truth,  "that  I  felt  sufficiently  strong  this 
morning  to  dress  myself;  and  as  I  have  just  enjoyed  a 
good  breakfast,  thought  a  little  fresh  air  would  be  ben- 
eficial to  me.  If  thou,  reverend  sir,  wilt  give  me  thy 


272       KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

strong  arm,  I  will  try  to  take  my  first  steps  across  the 
room." 

The  good  Benedictine,  with  many  misgivings,  re- 
luctantly extended  his  arm  to  his  refractory  patient, 
saying:  "I  am  afraid,  my  young  friend,  that  thou  art 
overdoing  things;  though  I  must  confess  that  for  a 
first  trial  after  having  been  so  long  in  bed,  thy  step  is 
wondrous  firm." 

"Let  me  remind  thee,  holy  father,  of  my  resolution 
to  get  well  as  soon  as  possible,"  answered  Conrad.  As 
he  said  this  smilingly,  he  looked  so  well  with  his 
heightened  color  that  the  old  monk's  fears  were  al- 
layed ;  so  he  contented  himself  with  once  more  admon- 
ishing his  patient  to  be  careful  and  moderate  as  to  his 
exercises.  That  afternoon  Conrad  put  a  further  test 
upon  his  strength  by  strolling  through  his  room  with 
Kurt  walking  by  his  side  but  without  leaning  upon 
him. 

When  the  leech  called  that  evening  he  found  his  pa- 
tient feverish;  but  as  his  wounds  were  well-nigh 
healed  and  his  appetite  excellent,  he  felt  no  further 
anxiety;  so,  with  instructions  to  restrict  him  in  his 
walking  for  at  least  another  fortnight,  he  left  him  to 
the  care  of  his  two  nurses.  These  injunctions  were 
as  nothing  to  Conrad,  whose  plan  of  future  action, 
leech  or  no  leech,  had  been  clearly  marked  out  in  his 
mind. 


THE  ACTS  OF  A  REFRACTORY  PATIENT.    273 

The  morning  following  was  the  last  before  that  on 
which  Rosalie  was  to  take  the  veil.  Dressing  himself 
carefully  for  the  first  time  since  his  illness,  Conrad 
walked  alone  up  and  down  for  a  few  minutes  before 
breakfast.  When  the  Abbot  joined  him,  he  pretended 
to  be  too  much  fatigued  to  take  his  usual  exercise.  Not 
without  misgivings  did  the  prelate  leave  the  sick  cham- 
ber to  officiate  at  early  mass,  making  up  his  mind  to 
watch  his  patient  more  closely  for  a  time. 

Hardly  had  the  sound  of  his  reverence's  footsteps 
died  away,  when  Conrad  donned  his  warm  jacket 
and  cloak,  picked  up  a  stout  stick  to  support  himself, 
and  with  a  doubtful  smile  on  his  pallid  face,  told  Kurt 
that  he  would  go  out  for  a  short  walk  in  the  garden. 

"Very  well,  Sir  Knight,"  said  the  boy;  "I  shall  tell 
the  Abbot  when  he  comes,"  well  knowing  he  was  help- 
ing to  get  his  master  into  a  scrape. 

As  Conrad  stepped  out  he  saw  a  Benedictine 
brother.  Hailing  him,  he  requested  him  to  lead 
him  through  the  underground  passage  to  the  ruins. 
At  first  the  monk  remonstrated ;  but  after  a  while,  on 
a  promise  that  it  should  not  reach  the  Abbot's  ears, 
he  was  persuaded  to  support  the  invalid  through  the 
long  corridor  to  the  well-remembered  banquet  hall. 

On  looking  around  him,  Conrad  discovered  unmis- 
takable signs  of  growing  decay.  The  portrait  of  the 
late  master  of  Grunau  was  split  in  two  right  through 

18 


274         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

the  middle.  The  two  couches  on  which  the  living  and 
the  dead  had  respectively  lain  were  still  there,  looking 
neglected  and  desolate.  Well  might  the  young  knight 
linger,  as  memory  conjured  up  the  face  of  the  Princess, 
with  all  the  stirring  incidents  of  her  last  fatal  day.  Not 
until  her  parting  words  came  forcibly  back  to  him, 
among  them,  "Thou  must  live  and  be  happy ;  remem- 
ber Rosalie,"  did  he  recollect  that  he  had  ventured  out 
that  morning  at  the  last  moment,  at  the  risk  of  health 
and  possibly  life,  to  rescue  this  girl  from  a  living  tomb. 
Hurriedly  resuming  his  way  out  of  the  ruins,  he 
crossed  the  highway  and  entered  the  woods  opposite ; 
nor  did  he  stop  again  until  he  found  himself  before 
the  wall  of  the  convent  grounds,  not  far  from  the 
chapel  whose  towers  were  visible  above  the  trees. 
Firmly  bracing  his  stick  against  the  wall,  he  placed 
one  foot  on  the  handle,  made  a  spring,  and  grasping 
the  coping  with  both  hands,  drew  himself  up;  then 
quietly  let  himself  down  on  the  inside. 

This  feat,  an  easy  one  at  ordinary  times,  proved  al- 
most too  much  for  him,  for  a  sharp  pain  in  his  shoul- 
der, and  a  warm,  trickling  down  his  sleeve,  told  him 
that  one  of  his  wounds  had  opened  afresh. 

Right  before  him,  almost  level  with  the  ground,  was 
a  long  colonnade  connecting  the  convent  with  the 
chapel,  through  which  he  knew  Rosalie  must  pass. 
He  gave  no  further  thought  to  his  wound,  but  crept 


THE  ACTS  OF  A  REFRACTORY  PATIENT.    275 

up  behind  the  intervening  bushes,  close  to  this  passage- 
way. Hardly  had  he  stopped  when  the  silvery  tones 
of  a  bell  startled  him.  His  heart,  weakened  by  his  long 
illness,  began  to  beat  excitedly  in  anticipation.  Nor 
did  he  have  long  to  wait.  In  the  silence  following  the 
tolling  of  the  bell,  a  procession  of  nuns,  their  hands 
folded  across  their  breasts,  and  eyes  turned  to  the 
ground,  stepped  out  of  the  convent  in  double  file,  with 
four  single  heavily  veiled  figures  in  their  center.  From 
his  hiding  place  Conrad  thought  he  recognized  in  the 
second  novice  the  graceful  form  of  young  Rosalie; 
but  before  he  could  make  up  his  mind  how  to  act,  the 
procession  had  passed  him  and  entered  the  chapel. 

Nearly  an  hour  elapsed  before  the  warning  tones  of 
the  bell  notified  him  that  they  were  about  to  reappear. 
In  the  meanwhile,  he  had  crossed  the  colonnade  into 
the, shade,  choosing  a  position  behind  a  large  tree 
against  which  he  leaned  for  support. 

As  the  bell's  last  vibrations  died  away,  the  nuns 
emerged  from  the  chapel,  re-entering  the  passage  in 
the  same  order  as  before.  Conrad  had  eyes  only  for 
the  four  central  figures.  As  they  drew  near,  he  was 
convinced  that  the  one  he  had  thought  Rosalie  was 
indeed  she.  Stepping  boldly  from  behind  the  tree  and 
ascending  two  steps  to  the  colonnade,  he  stretched  out 
his  hand  toward  her,  calling  out,  "Rosalie,  come  to  thy 


276          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

comrade !  Didst  think  me  dead  or  that  I  had  forgotten 
thee?" 

The  figure  thus  addressed  staggered  backward,  sink- 
ing into  the  arms  of  the  nuns  behind  her,  while  the  en- 
tire procession  seemed  horror-stricken,  as  though 
some  wild  beast  had  appeared  amongst  them,  instead 
of  a  pale,  handsome  young  knight. 

Rosalie,  who  had  believed  Conrad  dead,  for  the  mo- 
ment actually  thought  him  an  apparition ;  but  when  in 
her  half  consciousness  she  heard  the  beloved  voice,  and 
opening  her  eyes  with  a  wild  look,  saw  her  hero  stand- 
ing before  her,  she  quickly  disengaged  herself  from 
the  nuns.  Throwing  aside  her  veil  she  rushed  into  his 
outstretched  arms.  As  she  did  so,  the  nun's  cap  fell 
back,  releasing  her  luxuriant  hair,  of  which  she  would 
have  been  shorn  in  the  morning,  which  fell,  not  only 
over  her  own  shoulders,  but  partly  covered  those  of 
her  beloved  knight.  The  scandalized  nuns  rushed 
screaming  loudly  into  the  convent.  Rosalie  found'her- 
self  alone  with  Conrad,  who,  in  an  almost  fainting  con- 
dition, seated  himself  on  the  colonnade  steps. 

Absolutely  beside  herself  with  joy,  the  faithful  girl 
knelt  before  him.  Raising  her  head,  and  gazing  at  him 
with  fond  delight,  she  said:  "It  is,  indeed,  thou,  my 
beloved  knight !  Hast  thou  come  for  thy  little  girl  at 
last;  thou,  whom  I  had  thought  dead  and  gone  for- 
ever?" 


Wilt  thou  take  me  to  Falkenstein,  Conrad,  and  may  I  always  remain 
near  thee? " 


THE  ACTS  OF  A  REFRACTORY  PATIENT.    277 

Conrad,  inexpressibly  touched  by  such  emotion,  ten- 
derly raised  her  and  made  her  sit  beside  him. 

Looking  at  her  attentively,  he  marked  the  growth  of 
gentle  refinement  which  education  and  intercourse 
with  the  Abbess  had  imparted  to  her  countenance,  the 
which,  surrounded  by  her  wealth  of  hair,  made  a  vision 
calculated  to  act  as  a  soothing  balm  to  any  lacerated 
heart.  Taking  her  hand  in  his,  he  continued  to  gaze 
on  her  loveliness.  Rosalie,  who  met  his  glance  with 
frank,  beaming  eyes,  asked  suddenly:  "Wilt  thou 
take  me  to  Falkenstein,  Conrad,  and  may  I  always 
remain  near  thee?" 

This  appeal  went  straight  to  the  young  knight's 
heart.  "I  shall  take  thee  to  thy  new  home  as  soon  as 
I  can  undertake  the  journey,"  he  answered. 

"I  knew  it,"  she  exclaimed,  excitedly.  If  thou  wilt 
but  take  me  where  thou  art,  I  shall  be  happy;  but," 
she  added,  suddenly  observing  his  pallor,  "thou  art 
ill — hast  been  sorely  wounded  ?  Poor  Conrad !  And 
Hugo,  my  brother,  is  dead!  Ursula,  thy  love,  dead 
also !  Alas !  Alas !  poor  Conrad !" 

"Hugo  is  not  dead,"  replied  our  hero.  ''Volga's  ten- 
der devotion  and  almost  superhuman  efforts  have 

brought  him  back  to  life.  Ursula?  Yes,  she ." 

Here  Conrad,  who  had  been  talking  and  listening  en- 
tirely oblivious  to  everything  else,  came  to  a  sudden 
stop,  interrupted  by  the  unexpected  approach  of  the 


278         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

Abbess,  who  confronted  him  with  an  angry  glance, 
followed  by  a  compassionate  look  toward  Rosalie. 

"How  darest  thou,  Sir  Knight!"  she  said  sternly, 
"How  darest  thou  outrage  our  holy  order  by  trespass- 
ing on  these  sacred  grounds  ?  This  makes  thee  liable 
to  dire  punishment  by  the  Church  of  Rome.  How 
canst  thou  answer  before  God  for  having  drawn  this  in- 
nocent girl,  on  the  very  threshold  of  a  life  of  holy  seclu- 
sion from  worldly  temptation,  back  to  this  life  of  mis- 
ery? Moreover  thou  art  not  worthy  to  step  into  her 
life,  plighted  as  thou  wert  in  wedlock  to  the  Princess 
Ursuja,  who,  alas !  has  been  taken  from  us !" 

Conrad,  being  too  weak  to  rise,  apologized  to  the 
Abbess  for  the  omission,  saying :  "I  am  sorry  for  hav- 
ing intruded  upon  these  sacred  grounds,  holy  mother, 
but  the  urgency  of  the  case  could  bode  no  delay.  I 
knew  and  loved  this  child  like  my  own  sister  before  I 
had  ever  seen  the  Princess.  I  have  come  as  her  pro- 
tector to  claim  her  according  to  an  agreement.  I  know 
full  well  that  had  not  she  believed  both  her  brother  and 
me  to5  be  dead,  she  would  never  have  decided  to  take 
the  veil ;  so  I  rose  from  my  sick-bed  to  rescue  her  at  the 
last  hour  from  the  consequences  of  a  step  she  would 
have  taken  under  a  mistake.  I  have  no  other  excuse 
to  offer." 

"Thou  sayest,"  retorted  the  Abbess,  less  sternly, 
"that  thou  didst  love  this  child  before  ever  thou  hadst 


THE  ACTS  OF  A  REFRACTORY  PATIENT.    279 

seen  the  Princess  ?    Thou  didst  not  love  Ursula  then  ?" 

"I  loved  her  with  all  my  heart,"  replied  the  knight, 
unabashed.  "How  could  I  help  loving  one  so  noble, 
beautiful  and  good  ?  She  was  a  veritable  angel !  Had 
she  lived,  my  life  had  been  devoted  to  her  to  the  end, 
notwithstanding  the  affection  I  felt  for  this  sweet 
child." 

"I  must  say,"  replied  the  Abbess,  looking  doubtfully 
at  Conrad,  "I  do  not  understand  such  feelings.  Dost 
thou,  Rosalie?" 

"I  do,  holy  mother,"  answered  the  girl,  with  one  of 
her  tender  smiles.  "I  saw  the  beautiful  Princess  once, 
as  thou  knowest,  and  shall  never  forget  her.  I  would 
cheerfully  have  renounced  ever  seeing  Knight  Con- 
rad for  her  sake,  notwithstanding  my  great  love  for 
him.  Thou  seest,  dear,  kind  mother,  I  do  understand 
his  feelings  perfectly." 

The  stern  brow  of  the  Abbess  relaxed.  She  had 
loved  Rosalie  better  than  any  of  her  pupils  of  that  year. 
Unsophisticated  as  she  herself  was  in  the  ways  of  the 
world,  the  good  old  lady  could  not  help  recalling  the 
time  when  in  her  youth  she,  too,  had  been  disappointed 
in  love.  She  kissed  Rosalie,  saying :  "I  cannot  be  an- 
gry with  thee,  my  child.  May  God  and  the  Blessed 
Virgin  forgive  me  if  I  do  wrong  in  my  lenience  to  thee ! 
As  thou  and  this  daring  young  knight  seem  to  under- 
stand each  other  so  well,  perhaps  it  will  be  best  for  the 


280          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

happiness  of  both  to  remain  together.  Go  to  him, 
Rosalie!  Take  her,  Conrad  von  Rheinstein,"  she 
added,  in  a  trembling  voice,  "and  make  her  happy!" 

These  words  plainly  implied  more  than  our  hero  had 
thought  of.  With  all  his  gallantry,  the  idea  of  Rosa- 
lie's assuming  the  place  of  the  woman  he  had  adored 
had  never  once  entered  his  head.  He  meant,  how- 
ever, to  continue  her  affectionate  friend  and  pro- 
tector. So  rising,  with  her  assistance,  he  placed  his 
arms  around  her,  and  facing  the  Abbess,  said :  "I  shall 
devote  my  life  to  her  happiness." 

"I  am  inclined  to  believe  thee,"  replied  she,  her 
heart  being  completely  softened  on  noticing  the  feeble 
state  in  which  the  gallant  youth  had  ventured  forth; 
"and  I  sincerely  hope  ye  will  be  good  to  each  other. 
I  forgive  thee  everything,  Rosalie;  but  thy  return  to 
the  convent,  even  for  one  moment,  is  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. I  shall  have  to  consign  thee  at  once  to  the 
care  of  the  young  knight.  Thy  wearing  apparel,  which 
came  from  Falkenstein  a  year  ago,  I  shall  send  to  the 
Abbot  this  afternoon.  And  now  I  will  accompany  ye 
both  to  the  gate." 

She  kissed  Rosalie  farewell,  blessed  both  her  and 
Conrad  and  returned  to  her  living  tomb.  Her  heart 
had  been  unusually  stirred,  having  heard  and  seen 
more  of  the  ways  of  the  world  in  the  last  half  hour  than 
during  the  twenty  long  years  passed  within  its  walls. 


THE  ACTS  OF  A  REFRACTORY  PATIENT.    281 

As  soon  as  the  garden  gate  was  closed,  to  the  girl's 
great  delight,  Conrad  felt  obliged  to  lean  on  her  for 
support.  They  returned  to  the  monastery  by  the  river 
path,  along  which  they  had  walked  together,  for  the 
first  time,  on  that  day  one  year  before.  From  afar  off 
they  espied  the  Abbot,  who,  in  turn,  recognizing  Con- 
rad, the  refractory  patient  he  was  in  search  of,  and 
Rosalie,  in  the  girl  at  his  side,  stood  still  for  a  moment 
in  utter  astonishment.  Then  running  to  meet  them 
as  fast  as  his  gouty  legs  would  carry  him,  and 
out  of  breath,  he  called  out:  "A  nice  business  this! 
What  hast  thou  been  about,  young  sir,  sneaking  out 
of  thy  room  when  thou  shouldst  have  been  in  bed? 
This  may  be  thy  death,"  he  added,  puffing,  blowing 
and  mopping  his  brow ;  "and  how  darest  thou  abduct 
this  young  girl  from  the  convent?" 

"I  feel  too  weak,  reverend  sir,  to  answer,"  replied 
Conrad;  but  I  would  thank  thee  to  support  me  on 
my  other  side.  I  am  afraid  I  shall  never  get  up  that 
hill." 

"I  should  think  not,"  answered  the  monk,  some- 
what softened  by  the  appeal,  giving  his  willing  arm  to 
the  almost  fainting  man.  "Rosalie  and  I  will  sup- 
port thee  as  far  as  the  gate;  and  from  there  I  shall 
have  thee  carried  back  to  bed,  though  thou  dost  not 
deserve  it!" 

With  assistance  soon  obtained,  the  now  seemingly 
penitent  patient  was  carried  the  rest  of  the  way. 


282          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

Rosalie,  in  her  convent  attire,  her  hair  once  more 
pushed  back  underneath  her  cap,  was  allowed  to  re- 
main with  Volga  to  help  nurse  Hugo  and  Conrad. 
The  next  morning  the  latter  grew  hourly  worse.  The 
Abbot  becoming  alarmed,  had  a  consultation  with  the 
leech,  which  resulted  in  their  leaving  the  principal  care 
of  the  patient  to  Rosalie's  tender  hands  with  Kurt's 
assistance.  For  the  next  few  days,  however,  it  mat- 
tered little  whose  hands  administered  to  his  wants,  as 
he  recognized  no  one,  not  even  the  sweet  nurse  at  his 
side. 

When  Rosalie  arrived  at  the  monastery,  she  had 
found  her  brother  lying  speechless,  though  conscious. 
She  felt  cheered,  however,  by  hopeful  words  from 
Volga.  Three  days  later  she  was  called  by  the  excited 
girl  to  his  bedside,  he  having  spoken,  making  some  in- 
quiries regarding  the  Princess  Ursula,  which  his  de- 
voted nurse  dared  not  answer.  As  Conrad's  fever  had 
left  him  that  day  and  he  had  fallen  asleep,  she  resigned 
him  to  Kurt's  care,  and  answered  her  sister's  summons. 
With  a  quiet,  gentle  voice  she  gradually  detailed  to 
Hugo  all  the  sad  circumstances  of  Ursula's  untimely 
death,  of  which  she  had  heard  from  Kurt  since  her  ar- 
rival at  the  monastery.  She  ended  by  telling  him  how 
long  he  himself  had  been  at  death's  door,  and  that  only 
Volga's  devotion  had  brought  him  back  to  life. 

Varied  emotions  played  over  his  pale  face  as  he  lis- 
tened to  her  recital.  There  was  a  long  silence. 


THE  ACTS  OF  A  REFRACTORY  PATIENT.    283 

Presently  he  asked  Rosalie  to  kiss  him — Volga 
standing  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  noting  every  expression 
in  Hugo's  face.  Meeting  his  look,  she  blushed,  and 
turned  to  walk  toward  the  window  to  hide  the  tears 
which  were  fast  welling  up  into  her  eyes.  He  waited 
thoughtfully  for  a  few  moments,  then  called  Volga  to 
his  bedside.  Quickly  drying  her  tears,  she  came  to 
him. 

"Wilt  thou,  too,  kiss  me?"  he  asked. 

Without  answering,  she  regarded  him  with  com- 
pressed lips.  "Wilt  thou  kiss  me,"  he  repeated,  "if  I 
tell  thee  how  dear  thou  art  to  me ;  dearer  than  I  ever 
thought  thou  wouldst  be  ?" 

"No,  Hugo!"  she  answered,  "not  until  I  know 
more." 

Stooping  down  she  pressed  her  lips  to  his  thin  hand, 
and  returned  to  the  window. 

He  did  not  try  to  detain  her ;  but  turning  to  his  sis- 
ter, whispered  that  ere  long  all  would  be  understood 
between  him  and  the  dear  girl  who  had  nursed  him  so 
devotedly.  Rosalie  pressed  her  brother's  hand  in  an- 
swer, returning  to  Conrad  with  a  lighter  heart. 


284          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  ORPHAN  ASYLUM  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  FALKENSTEIN. 

"Here  too  dwells  simple  trust;  plain  innocence; 
Unsullied  beauty;  sound  unbroken  youth." 

— Thompson. 

A  few  days  after  the  scene  last  described,  Hugo 
made  a  full  confession  to  Volga  of  his  infatuation  for 
Ursula,  whom  he  had*  seen  but  once  in  his  life.  He 
acknowledged  that  in  dying  to  save  Conrad's  life,  she 
proved  that  she  could  never  have  cared  for  him,  nor 
could  she  have  been  anything  to  him  had  she  lived. 
Yet  it  was  even  a  more  difficult  task  to  convince  Volga 
than  to  assure  himself  of  the  love  he  felt  for  her  whom, 
from  their  earliest  childhood,  he  had  regarded  as  a 
sister.  When  at  last  she  listened  to  him,  and  he 
learned  fully  to  understand  her  loving  heart — how  she 
had  nursed  him  with  a  devotion  which  could  not  be 
equaled,  in  fact,  bringing  him  back  to  life  from  well- 
nigh  actual  death,  he  wondered  that  a  thought  of  any 
other  woman,  even  Ursula,  could  ever  have  had  a 
place  in  his  heart. 


THE  ORPHAN  ASYLUM.  285 

If  there  was  a  happy  girl  in  the  world  at  this  time, 
it  was  Volga. 

Three  long  months  thus  elapsed,  which  under  differ- 
ent circumstances  would  have  been  tedious  indeed. 
Hugo  at  last  felt  strong  enough  to  undertake  the  jour- 
ney to  Falkenstein,  in  response  to  repeated  messages 
from  its  loving  inmates. 

But  to  go  back  to  Conrad. 

Two  months  before  Hugo's  departure,  he  and  Ro- 
salie left  the  monastery,  accompanied  by  Kurt  and  an 
escort,  the  brave  old  Abbot  waving  them  a  last  fare- 
well. As  Conrad  entered  the  well-remembered  road 
to  Falkenstein,  he  pointed  out  to  Rosalie  the  places  of 
interest  to  him  in  the  past,  and  as  toward  night  they 
rode  through  the  village,  he  told  her  of  his  first  meet- 
ing with  Ursula.  Soon  after,  they  rode  through  the 
lower  gate  of  the  fortress,  ascended  the  hill,  crossed 
the  drawbridge  and  reached  the  palace,  where  their 
devoted  friends,  the  Duke  and  Duchess,  to  the  un- 
speakable delight  of  the  grateful  girl,  received  them 
with  open  arms. 

Bernard  von  Wolfram,  who  had  restored  and  was 
occupying  his  ancestral  castle,  came  early  next  morn- 
ing to  welcome  Conrad  and  to  have  his  first  look  at 
Count  Hans'  daughter,  the  girl  of  whom  Ursula  had 
spoken  to  him  so  fondly.  The  minstrel  was  imme- 
diately attracted  by  her  modest,  childlike  bearing. 


286         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

When  he  perceived  her  readiness  to  talk  of  the  dead 
Princess,  now  more  than  ever  his  life's  idol  and  the 
subject  of  his  song,  his  heart  went  out  to  the  fair-young 
orphan,  who  soon  became  aware  that  she  had  made  a 
true  friend  in  the  minstrel  knight. 

The  freedom  of  her  new  surroundings  enabled  Con- 
rad to  note  with  pleasure  her  improvement  in  culture 
and  understanding,  as  well  as  the  other  charms  which 
go  to.make  attractive  womanhood.  Among  these,  her 
singing  gave  them  all  the  greatest  surprise.  One  even- 
ing while  all  were  seated  together,  she  treated  them 
unexpectedly  to  one  of  Ursula's  beautiful  composi- 
tions, which  had  been  secretly  obtained  from  the 
Duchess,  and  in  a  short  time  thoroughly  mastered  by 
the  gifted  songstress. 

One  can  imagine  the  tender  feelings  awakened  in 
each  breast  as  the  voice  of  the  beloved  dead  seemed 
to  be  repeated  and  re-echoed  in  the  living  and  thrill- 
ing tones  of  Rosalie.  As  they  fell  upon  his  ears  Wol- 
fram sat  entranced  and  spellbound.  He  listened  with 
forced  composure  to  the  end ;  then,  no  longer  able  to 
control  his  emotion,  rose  hurriedly,  pressed  his  lips 
to  Rosalie's  hand  in  silence,  and  withdrew.  The 
younger  knight's  face,  also  so  visibly  betrayed  the  tu- 
multuous working  of  his  heart,  that  the  girl  came  to 
him  in  alarm,  saying: 


THE  ORPHAN  ASYLUM.  287 

"What  ails  thee,  Conrad,  and  why  did  our  friend,  the 
minstrel,  leave  us  so  suddenly  ?" 

"I  know  not,  dear  Rosalie,"  answered  the  young 
knight,  "unless  it  be  that  thy  beautiful  song  has 
awakened  the  same  recollections  and  emotions  in  his 
heart  as  in  mine;  for  thy  exquisite  voice  indeed  af- 
fected me  strangely.  Wolfram,  you  must  know,  has 
for  years  loved  Ursula  devotedly." 

"If  my  songs  sadden  thee,"  said  the  girl,  tenderly, 
"I  shall  sing  no  more ;"  at  the  same  time  placing  her 
soft  hand  on  his. 

"Such  emotions  as  these,"  replied  Conrad,  "are  the 
greatest  boon  to  a  sorrowing  heart.  Sing  to  me,  dear 
one,  her  songs  as  well  as  thine  own,  and  talk  to  me 
of  her  if  thou  wilt,  I  shall  only  love  thee  the  better  for 
so  doing." 

Rosalie,  answering  him  with  a  gentle  smile,  observed 
the  Duchess  holding  out  to  her  both  her  trembling  and 
transparent  hands.  Without  hesitation  she  rushed  into 
her  tender  arms.  The  good  lady  p'ressed  her  to  her 
heart,  which  example  was  warmly  followed  by  the 
Duke,  who  then  placed  the  delighted  girl  between 
them. 

Wolfram  re-entered  the  room  and  advanced  toward 
Rosalie,  exclaiming  that  he  had  never  heard  a  more 
beautiful  and  soul-stirring  voice;  and  that,  if.  she 
wished,  he  would  gladly  teach  her  other  songs  of  Ur- 


288          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

sula's,  as  well  as  accompany  her.  Rosalie,  in  her  be- 
witching, unaffected  way,  expressed  her  grateful  ap- 
preciation of  both  his  praise  and  offer,  and  furthermore 
asked  the  favor  that  he  would  sing  to  her.  The  min- 
strel complied  with  the  request,  remarking  how  sad 
was  the  comparison  between  his  worn  tenor  voice,  and 
the  fresh  and  rich  tones  they  had  just  heard.  Rosalie, 
who  as  yet  knew  but  little  of  minstrelsy,  grew  intensely 
interested  in  Wolfram's  ballads.  She  sang  with  him 
and  made  him  accompany  her  from  that  day.  With 
double  pleasure  she  looked  forward  to  the  arrival  of 
his  white-haired  teacher,  Roland,  who  had  been  in- 
vited by  the  Duke  to  visit  Falkenstein. 

It  was  touching  to  see  the  affection  bestowed  on 
Conrad  and  Rosalie  by  the  Duke  and  Duchess.  The 
former  was  so  connected  with  the  memory  of  their 
daughter  that  he  would  naturally  come  in  for  his  share. 
Rosalie,  however,  took  them  by  storm,  not  only  on 
account  of  her  personal  charms,  but  equally  those  of 
mind  and  heart.  As  she  so  often  alluded  to  Ursula, 
she  by  degrees  occupied  the  daughter's  place  in  the 
thoughts  and  affections  of  the  bereaved  couple. 

When  Hugo  brought  Volga  to  Falkenstein  he 
presented  her  to  his  benefactors  as  his  affianced 
wife.  The  sincere  brotherly  affection  manifested  to- 
ward the  young  couple  by  Conrad,  drew  them 
daily  closer  to  that  tender-hearted  invalid,  the  Duchess. 


THE  ORPHAN  ASYLUM.  289 

When  later  on  our  hero  told  her  of  the  young  forester's 
unexpressed  love  for  Ursula,  she  from  that  moment 
gave  the  youth  a  permanent  place  in  her  motherly 
heart. 

As  time  wore  on,  Conrad  was  obliged  to  confess  to 
himself  that  Rosalie  was  becoming  more  and  more 
dear  to  him.  Her  heart,  he  well  knew,  was  already 
his,  having  been  convinced  of  it  by  a  thousand  sweet, 
natural  signs.  He  loved  her  no  less  truly,  and  de- 
lighted in  her  companionship. 

The  Ducal  pair  had  perceived  this  growing  affec- 
tion, as  had  also  Rosalie  herself.  Although  Conrad 
had  not  yet  breathed  a  word  of  it,  she  read  his  heart 
and  was  thrilled  with  joy.  Her  step  was  more  elastic. 
Her  voice  sang  gaily  through  the  halls  of  the  castle. 
Her  exuberance  of  spirits  was  contagious.  The  long 
winter  nights  had  come,  during  which  her  cheering 
presence  shed  its  brightness  on  all.  The  Duke  and 
Duchess,  suspecting  the  delicacy  which,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, kept  Conrad  silent,  themselves  opened  the 
subject  one  day,  assuring  him  that  nothing  would  make 
them  happier,  now  that  their  daughter  was  no  more, 
than  to  see  him  take  for  his  wife  one  whose  bright 
presence  had  done  so  much  to  lighten  their  sorrow. 

As  he  received  this  unexpected  encouragement, 
Conrad  quietly  bowed  his  head,  kissed  the  Duchess' 
hand,  and  stood  awaiting  the  coming  of  Rosalie,  who 

19 


290         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

entered  almost  at  the  moment.  He  met  her  at  the  door 
and  clasped  the  astonished  girl  in  his  arms,  impressing 
one  long  and  lingering  kiss  on  her  lips.  She  felt  in- 
stinctively the  difference  between  this  demonstration 
of  affection  and  the  calm,  brotherly  embraces  of  for- 
mer days.  When  he  released  her,  she  hesitated  a  mo- 
ment in  her  surprise ;  then  throwing  her  arms  around 
his  neck,  returned  his  kiss  with  her  whole  heart  and 
soul. 

From  her  hero  she  ran  to  her  benefactors.  Em- 
bracing them  both,  she  took  her  now  accustomed  seat 
between  them.  The  expression  in  her  lovely  face  un- 
der this  new-found  happiness  was  so  charming  as  to 
complete  the  fascination  of  the  old  couple.  At  their 
words  of  open  admiration  and  praise  she  blushed  deep- 
ly, and  hurriedly  rising,  rushed  out  of  the  room,  fol- 
lowed by  Conrad. 

When  they  were  alone  the  spell  of  silence  which  had 
so  far  held  them  was  effectually  broken.  How  much 
was  to  be  told,  and  what  important  revelations  made, 
we  leave  our  readers  to  imagine.  Conrad  did  not  for- 
get Ursula,  nor  did  Rosalie.  They  agreed  to  live  to 
her  memory,  and  to  devote  themselves  to  the  happiness 
of  her  father  and  mother;  "and  also  to  each  other's 
happiness,"  added  Rosalie,  archly. 

"Yes,  thou  little  witch!  and  to  each  other's  happi- 
ness also,"  repeated  Conrad,  smiling  as  of  old. 


THE  ORPHAN  ASYLUM.  291 

During  the  stormy,  wintry  weather  that  followed, 
Wolfram  accompanied  Hugo  and  Volga  on  nearly 
every  ride,  while  Conrad,  knowing  the  location  of  the 
poor  through  his  former  visits  with  Ursula,  continued 
at  the  side  of  his  newly  betrothed,  to  dispense  the  chari- 
ties of  the  Duchess.  Kurt,  who  never  failed  to  be  with 
his  master  and  his  pretty  little  mistress,  as  he  called 
Rosalie,  on  all  these  expeditions,  remained  within  the 
castle  a  privileged  page. 

One  evening  as  they  all  sat  together  enjoying  the 
warmth  from  the  huge  fire-place  at  Falkenstein,  Con- 
rad ventured  the  remark  that  it  seemed  to  him  as  if 
through  the  kindness  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess  the 
castle  had  become  a  veritable  place  of  refuge  for  the 
fatherless  and  motherless.  "We  are  all  orphans  here," 
he  said,  "Hugo,  Volga,  Rosalie  and  I ;  without  a  home 
or  castle  other  than  that  provided  by  you,  our  noble, 
generous  benefactors." 

"What  has  been  destroyed  can  be  rebuilt,"  said 
the  Duke ;  "but  what  those  two  damsels  yonder,  with 
their  heads  close  together,  are  talking  about,  I  should 
like  to  know." 

"I  think,"  said  Wolfram,  "they  are  discussing  an- 
other orphan,  namely  myself,  who  spends  so  much 
time  at  this,  thy  asylum,  noble  Duke,  that  he  might 
be  counted  one  of  its  inmates  as  well.  I  told  these 
young  girls  tonight  that  I  am  about  making  a  tour, 


292          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

with  my  lyre,  through  the  principal  capitals  of  South- 
ern Germany,  to  enlighten  their  inhabitants  concern- 
ing the  glorious  deeds  of  our  departed  Princess  and 
those  of  her  two  noble  knights,  Conrad  and  Hugo." 

"Not  leaving  out  thyself,  I  hope,"  interposed  the 
Duke. 

"When  I  sing  of  my  own  prowess,"  replied  the 
minstrel,  "I  do  so  as  a  nameless  knight,  but  when  I 
sing  of  the  dead  and  lost  I  call  her  and  those  who 
fought  for  her  so  nobly  by  their  true  names.  One  of 
these,  our  young  Count  Hugo  here,  I  have  made  my 
heir.  If  I  do  not  return  all  my  estate  will  belong  to 
him  and  his  future  wife." 

"Thou  art  indeed  a  true  and  generous  friend!"  ex-- 
claimed Volga,  rushing  to  embrace  him. 

"A  friend  to  us  all,"  said  the  Duke.  "I  trust  that 
we  shall  see  thee  back  again  before  the  end  of  the 
year ;  for  without  thee,  we  cannot  count  our  home  cir- 
cle complete." 

"I  well  know  where  my  heart  will  long  to  be,"  re- 
plied the  minstrel.  "I  shall  probably  return  next  year 
in  time  for  the  chase,  which,  in  the  comradeship  of  that 
expert  young  huntress,  Volga,  I  shall  enjoy  as  never 
before." 

Two  days  later,  mounted  on  a  white  charger,  Knight 
Wolfram,  in  the  garb  of  a  wandering  minstrel,  lyre  in 
hand,  and  without  attendance,  left  his  castle.  As  he 


I 

•'    \A 

"     -    ffeS* 


THE  ORPHAN  ASYLUM.  293 

wound  around  the  hill,  on  which  rose  the  proud 
Castle  of  Falkenstein,  he  saluted  its  inmates,  who  were 
watching  his  departure  from  one  of  the  lookouts  on  the 
battlements,  surrounding  the  well-remembered  arena. 

One  morning  a  great  commotion  was  occasioned 
among  the  inmates  of  Falkenstein  by  the  arrival  of  an 
old  friend  whom  they  had  long  thought  dead ;  no  less 
a  person  than  Henry  the  guide,  accompanied  by  a  little 
girl.  In  answer  to  their  eager  inquiries  he  told  them 
that  Prince  Steffel  had  spared  his  life  when  the  other 
prisoners  at  Waldhorst  were  put  to  the  sword,  recog- 
nizing in  him  the  famous  guide  and  thinking  he  might 
prove  useful  some  future  day. 

After  the  Prince's  defeat  and  death  he  had  managed 
to  make  his  escape.  Remaining  on  his  charcoal  settle- 
ment until  the  death  of  his  widowed  sister,  he  had  final- 
ly decided  to  seek  the  Duke  with  his  little  orphan  niece, 
the  only  one  left  to  him  in  the  world. 

"Another  orphan !"  whispered  Conrad  to  Hugo,  who 
had  just  joined  them. 

"I  am  glad  to  see  thee  again,  my  companion  in  suf- 
fering," said  Duke  Henry,  "and  if  thou  art  willing  to 
remain  with  us,  thou  mayst  enter  my  service  from  this 
day." 

The  Guide  was  overjoyed  at  this  offer,  particularly 
as  the  Duke  allowed  his  little  girl  to  remain  with  him. 

At  the  request  of  the  Duke,  Hugo  and  Conrad  vis- 


294          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

ited  Waldhorst  in  the  autumn.  They  found  nought  but 
desolate  ruins.  The  towers  and  battlements  had  fallen 
into  the  courtyard,  rilling  up  the  dry  moat.  The  draw- 
bridge lay  charred  and  broken.  Hugo  felt  as  Conrad 
had  done  on  visiting  the  ruins  of  his  ancestral  castle 
on  the  Rhine.  As  the  latter  had  sought  his  mother's 
grave,  so  the  young  Count  made  his  way  to  that  of 
both  his  father  and  mother.  They  found  it  surrounded 
by  many  mounds,  thrown  over  the  remains  of  the  mur- 
dered prisoners  of  Waldhorst.  While  viewing  these 
monuments  of  man's  dastardly  cruelty,  the  young 
men  pressed  each  others'  hands  in  melancholy  silence. 
Hugo,  on  rinding  the  underground  passage,  on 
which  the  water  supply  of  the  moat  depended,  com- 
pletely choked  up,  and  the  river  branch  itself  dry,  gave 
up  all  hope  of  rebuilding  his  birthplace.  He  entered 
into  negotiations  to  sell  the  land  and  hunting  grounds 
to  a  neighboring  Baron.  As  this  business  necessitated 
several  journeys  to  and  fro,  through  the  woods,  our 
two  friends,  armed  with  crossbows,  indulged  in  a 
week's  hunting.  Returning  loaded  with  game,  they 
picked  up  the  Abbot  by  the  way,  who  added  to  their 
trophies  two  barrels  of  the  best  wine  for  his  old  friend, 
Duke  Henry.  The  Benedictine  proved  so  jolly  a  guest 
that  the  Duke  detained  him  from  week  to  week.  When 
Conrad  asked  him  one  day  if  he  also  were  not  an  or- 
phan, and  a  fit  subject  for  adoption,  the  merry  monk 


THE  ORPHAN  ASYLUM.  295 

replied:  "Not  only  have  I  been,  as  I  believe,  an  or- 
phan all  my  life ;  but  I  have  always  been  partial  to,  and 
loved  every  other  orphan,  particularly  such  as  Rosalie 
and  Volga  there."  The  girls  received  this  sally  with 
shouts  of  laughter. 

When  at  last,  on  the  approach  of  winter,  his  visit 
came  to  an  end,  his  cheery  presence  was  missed  by  all. 


296          KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

AND  THE  LAST. 
"All's   well,    that   ends   well." — Shakespeare. 

Time  flew  on  with  its  simple  duties  and  pleasures, 
and  in  due  season,  nature  again  put  on,  bit  by  bit,  her 
beautiful  garb  of  spring.  With  it  came  the  tidings  of 
the  speedy  return  of  Bernard  von  Wolfram,  which 
gladdened  the  hearts  of  the  inmates  of  the  castle. 

Once  more  the  Abbot  made  the  journey  to  Falken- 
stein,  this  time  to  officiate  at  a  double  wedding, 
to  take  place  on  the  anniversary  of  the  Princess'  birth- 
day, which,  during  her  lifetime,  had  always  been  kept 
as  the  most  important  festival  of  the  year. 

A  very  suggestive  bustle  was  noticed  at  the  castle, 
in  which  the  Duchess  took  an  active  part.  Time,  aided 
by  circumstances,  had  done  much  toward  healing  her 
wounded  heart.  She  was  able  once  more  to  consider, 
and  take  an  interest  in,  the  claims  of  the  living. 

When  the  day  arrived  on  which  Conrad  and  Rosalie, 
and  Hugo  and  Volga  were  to  be  united  in  matrimony, 
sunlight  reigned  supreme,  the  shadows  of  the  past 


AND  THE  LAST.  297 

only  enhancing  the  splendor  of  the  present,  which  that 
morning  thrilled  every  heart. 

The  great  festivities  or  tournaments  usual  on  former 
celebrations  were  omitted.  But  a  comparatively  small 
number  of  guests  had  been  bidden  to  the  castle.  The 
Duke,  however,  had  resolved  to  give  them  a  surprise 
by  bringing  about  a  friendly  trial  of  skill  with  the 
crossbow,  for  which  Wolfram  sent  a  beautiful  Arabian 
steed  as  a  prize.  The  target  was  again  placed  at  one 
end  of  the  vast  arena  in  which  Conrad  and  Hugo  had 
been  the  victors  two  years  before.  In  the  center  of  the 
field  of  honor,  where  Ursula  had  sat  on  that  eventful 
day,  an  awning  supported  by  posts  entwined  with  roses 
had  been  erected  for  Rosalie,  the  Queen  of  the  Festival. 

On  the  morning  of  that  auspicious  day  the  partici- 
pants of  the  contest,  including  Volga  in  a  picturesque 
hunting  costume,  formed  in  line  directly  in  front  of  the 
stand  where  Rosalie,  in  her  white  bridal  dress,  sat  en- 
throned among  a  profusion  of  flowers,  a  blushing  rose 
herself,  with  her  dark  masses  of  hair  for  a  background. 
She  made  a  picture  so  attractive  that  every  eye  was 
turned  upon  her. 

When  all  the  male  competitors  had  made  their  shots, 
the  bolts  of  Henry  the  guide  and  Hugo  von  Waldhorst, 
who  as  usual  had  outdone  everybody,  were  found 
sticking  in  the  center  of  the  target  so  close  alongside 
of  each  other  that  there  was  apparently  no  room  be- 


298         KNIGHT  CONRAD  OF  RHEINSTEIN. 

tween  them.  As  it  was  now  Volga's  turn,  the  girl, 
following  the  example  of  her  lover  two  years  before, 
stepped  back  some  distance  and  sent  off  her  missile, 
which  on  its  downward  course  dropped  directly  upon 
the  two  already  there,  its  point  sliding  between  them 
to  the  plumb  center  of  the  bull's-eye. 

Amidst  the  wildest  enthusiasm  Kurt  brought  for- 
ward the  spirited  Arabian  and  Wolfram  taking  it  from 
him  presented  it  to  the  proud  and  happy  girl. 

The  chapel  on  the  Falcon's  Rock,  which  that  af- 
ternoon was  to  be  the  scene  of  the  double  bridal,  was 
garlanded  with  choicest  flowers.  The  Abbot  mar- 
ried both  couples  at  the  same  time,  and  gave  each  his 
blessing,  after  which  all  repaired  to  the  brilliantly  il- 
luminated banquet  hall,  where  wine,  wassail  and  festive 
song  by  the  two  minstrels,  young  and  old,  cheered  the 
table  round.  The  sorrows  of  the  past  were  obscured 
by  the  joys  of  the  present.  So  we  leave  them  to  that 
happiness  to  which  honor,  courage  and  noble  self-sac- 
rifice entitled  them. 

The  ducal  couple,  looking  tenderly  at  their  new 
son  and  his  lovely  wife,  felt  that  though  God  had 
taken  away  one  great  blessing,  He  had  given  in  return 
two  others,  at  least,  to  love  and  cherish,  until  He 
should  call  them  to  join  her — "whom  they  had  loved 
long  since,  and  lost  the  while!" 

THE  END. 


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